Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
What is healing, but a shift in perspectives?
Wit is the only wall between us and the dark.
Joys do not stay, but take wing and fly away.
Fortune gives many too much, but none enough.
A nation's art is the expression of its soul.
The existence of God is infinite love itself.
A hole is nothing but what remains around it.
Calm's not life's crown, though calm is well.
Six years-six little years-six drops of time.
when I am working I immediately feel hopeful.
Be who you are, nothing more... nothing less.
I find it's impossible for me to read Proust.
Happiness is having a scratch for every itch.
Where there is a monster, there is a miracle.
No man is greater than his respect for sleep.
Love and dignity cannot share the same abode.
Love will enter cloaked in friendship's name.
A woman is a creature that's always shopping.
Destroy our leisure and you break love's bow.
A pleasing countenance is no light advantage.
No thanks attach to a kindness long deferred.
The burden which is well borne becomes light.
It is the stress that holds the structure up.
Even when we sleep we watch over one another.
Writing is rewriting what you have rewritten.
Corncobs are the greatest fire-making tinder.
We simply have not kept in touch with poetry.
A bad poem is one that vanishes into meaning.
The root of oppression is the loss of memory.
There is no real wealth but the labor of man.
All pleasure in the world is a passing dream.
How quick the old woe follows a little bliss!
Love is the art of hearts, and heart or arts.
Prayer is the spirit speaking truth to Truth.
Where doubt there truth is - 'tis her shadow.
Wan night, the shadow goer, came stepping in.
How slight a chance may raise or sink a soul!
The breath that sharpens life is life itself.
I am awakened each dawn Increasingly to fear.
Either I will find a way, or I will make one.
All is but lip-wisdom which wants experience.
Whoever gossips to you will gossip about you.
A noble cause doth ease much a grievous case.
Ungratefulness is the very poison of manhood.
Who will adhere to him that abandons himself?
I like the way the prose and poetry interact.
The handwriting on the wall may be a forgery.
An ounce of mirth is worth a pound of sorrow.
If you want to communicate, use the telephone
Forbear, thou great good husband, little ant.