Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
As long as a word remains unspoken, you are its master; once you utter it, you are its slave.
One has to multiply thoughts to the point where there aren't enough policemen to control them
Men have slow reflexes. In general it takes several generations later for them to understand.
Even the purest of teachers will face bitter criticism from those who feel threatened by him.
There is a certain justice in criticism. The critic is like a midwife - a tyrannical midwife.
I will dance and resist and dance and persist and dance. This heartbeat is louder than death.
August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.
To annihilate the world by annihilation of oneself is the deluded height of desperate egoism.
I am inhabited by a cry. Nightly it flaps out Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.
I do not love; I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit.
I didn't really see why people should look at me. Plenty of people looked queerer than I did.
Great teachers will never be able to make up for bad parents, nor should they be expected to.
the past is not only that which happened but also that which could have happened but did not.
The wound that's made by fire will heal, But the wound that's made by tongue will never heal.
When love could teach a monarch to be wise, And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes.
Boughs are daily rifled By the gusty thieves, And the book of Nature Getteth short of leaves.
Penalty is different than punishment, because it offers something with which to regain honor.
Women play with their beauty as children do with their knives. They wound themselves with it.
The saints were his friends, and blessed him; the monsters were his friends, and guarded him.
One only needs to see a smile in a white crape bonnet in order to enter the palace of dreams.
On the pavement of my trampled soul the steps of madmen weave the prints of rude crude words.
To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle. Every cubic inch of space is a miracle.
Comrades mine and I in the midst, and their memory ever to keep for the dead I loved so well.
Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth ever afterward resumes its liberty.
Old age: The estuary that enlarges and spreads itself grandly as it pours into the Great Sea.
Scarcely a tear to shed; Hardly a word to say; The end of a Summer's day; Sweet Love is dead.
Pride is a personal commitment. It is an attitude which separates excellence from mediocrity.
You've always had the power right there in your shoes, you just had to learn it for yourself.
Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams, Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.
Those men that in their writings are most wise Own nothing but their blind, stupefied hearts.
O what fine thought we had because we thought that the worst rogues and rascals had died out.
Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.
The horse's neck is between the two reins of the bridle, which both meet in the rider's hand.
Greece, sound, thy Homer's, Rome thy Virgil's name, But England's Milton equals both in fame.
And diff'ring judgments serve but to declare that truth lies somewhere, if we knew but where.
Give what thou canst, without Thee we are poor; And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away.
He who will not reason, is a bigot; he who cannot is a fool; and he who dares not is a slave.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast, yet love breaks through and picks them all at last.
The curse of marriage That we can call these delicate creatures ours And not their appetites!
He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle.
I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer, with sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear.
We are not ourselves When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind To suffer with the body.
O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that's in me should set hell on fire.
For we, which now behold these present days, Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
I had rather eleven died nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.