Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Anaesthesia, that's one technique: if it hurts, invent a different pain.
The thing about delirium is you think it's great, but it actually isn't.
There would be no Sherlock Holmes if it were not for serial publication.
You're dead, Cordelia.' No I'm not. 'Yes you are. You're dead. Lie down.
Time in dreams is frozen. You can never get away from where you've been.
Mind does dominate body. We are superior to the house in which we dwell.
The Word of fire burns today On the lips of our prophets in an evil age.
Life is the first gift, love is the second, and understanding the third.
The pitcher cries for water to carry and a person for work that is real.
The passion for setting people right is in itself an afflictive disease.
At all events there is in Brooklyn something that makes me feel at home.
Truth is a seed hidden in the days until watered by what life brings us.
What we reach for may be different, but what makes us reach is the same.
Can the fish love the fisherman? [Lat., Piscatorem piscis amare potest?]
I think the problem with visual media like TV is that they're reductive.
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
If you have ever gone into the woods with me, I must love you very much.
Traveler's heart. Never settled long in one place. Like a portable fire.
Awakened at midnight by the sound of the water jar cracking from the ice
Culture is to know the best that has been said and thought in the world.
We are, each of us, our own prisoner. We are locked up in our own story.
Letting people be okay without us is how we get to be okay without them.
It is your virtue, being men, to try; And it is ours, by virtue to deny.
Be as radiant as the sun, as healing as the rain, as generous as a tree.
Work is the law of the modern world, which has no place for lazy people.
The true way to render age vigorous is to prolong the youth of the mind.
All men are fools, and with every effort they differ only in the degree.
I never think about poetry except when I'm writing it. I mean my poetry.
Philosophy is properly home-sickness; the wish to be everywhere at home.
No one is alone, and each change here brings about another change there.
Home is heaven and orgies are vile, But I like an orgy, once in a while.
Professional men, they have no cares; whatever happens, they get theirs.
You can take it as understood, That your luck changes only if it's good.
The mind that's conscious of its rectitude, Laughs at the lies of rumor.
Sleep, nature's rest, divine tranquility, That brings peace to the mind.
Many women long for what eludes them, and like not what is offered them.
Pride is innate in beauty, and haughtiness is the companion of the fair.
When sisters stand shoulder to shoulder, who stands a chance against us?
I love the fact that Inuit poetry may resonate with me as much as Irish.
The trouble with our times is that the future is not what it used to be.
A man's true secrets are more secret to himself than they are to others.
The future, like everything else, is no longer quite what it used to be.
A vast black sleep falls over my life sleep, all hope sleep, all desire.
For there are deeds which have no form, sufferings which have no tongue.
And many an ante-natal tomb Where butterflies dream of the life to come.
The intense atom glows A moment, then is quenched in a most cold repose.
I would have preferred to have been born in any other time than our own.
England! my country, great and free! Heart of the world, I leap to thee!
O, there is naught on earth worth being known but God and our own souls!
But most commonly, it's one poem that I work on with a lot of intensity.