Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
A country's greatness lies in its undying ideals of love and sacrifice that inspire the mothers of the race.
Goodbye, my friend, goodbye. My dear, you are in my heart. Predestined separation promises a future meeting.
She'd crack A joke sharp as a tin lid Hot from the teeth of the can-opener, And cackle her crack-corn laugh.
I think a lot of Indians want Indian artists to be cultural cheerleaders rather than cultural investigators.
She taught me what's important, and what isn't. And I've never forgotten. And that's what mothers do, I say.
There can be no good art that is international. Art to be vigorous and gesund must use the material at hand.
I like food, I like stripping vegetables of their skins, I like to have a slim young parsnip under my knife.
In Bengal, Hindus are known to crack jokes at the expense of their gods and goddesses and that's what I did.
Some pale, hueless flicker of sensitivity is in me. God, must I lose it in cooking scrambled eggs for a man.
Not easy to state the change you made. If I'm alive now, I was dead, Though, like a stone, unbothered by it.
It was my last act of love (first words to her mother in the hospital after her first major suicide attempt)
The progress of any writer is marked by those moments when he manages to outwit his own inner police system.
To use bitter words, when kind words are at hand, Is like picking unripe fruit when the ripe fruit is there.
I remember, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn.
I'm lazy but generally task oriented so having a hoop to jump through means eventually I'll make the effort.
A poem gives me a chance to have an encounter with a feeling, with an experience, with a wish, with an idea.
It is incontestable that music induces in us a sense of the infinite and the contemplation of the invisible.
Cheerfulness is like money well expended in charity; the more we dispense of it, the greater our possession.
Ah," cried Gavroche, "what does this mean? It rains again! ...If this continues, I withdraw my subscription.
I've always done things that were good for me, whether they were viewed as being as prestigious or whatever.
May the countryside and the gliding valley streams content me. Lost to fame, let me love river and woodland.
A line is a fuse that's lit. The line smolders, the rhyme explodes— and by a stanza a city is blown to bits.
Of all possible subjects, travel is the most difficult for an artist, as it is the easiest for a journalist.
I wouldn't be happy about being considered a love poet or an environmental - I don't want any of those tags.
It was evening all afternoon. It was snowing And it was going to snow. The blackbird sat In the cedar-limbs.
Whoever you are, motion and reflection are especially for you, The divine ship sails the divine sea for you.
Great is the faith of the flush of knowledge and of the investigation of the depths of qualities and things.
Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.
For Mercy has a human heart Pity, a human face: And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress.
Sweet babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles.
And when you sigh from kiss to kiss I hear white Beauty sighing, too, For hours when all must fade like dew.
Neither Christ nor Buddha nor Socrates wrote a book, for to do so is to exchange life for a logical process.
All that could run or leap or swim Whether in wood, water or cloud, Acclaiming, proclaiming, declaiming Him.
My chair was nearest to the fire In every company That talked of love or politics, Ere Time transfigured me.
Yet they that know all things but know That all this life can give us is A child's laughter, a woman's kiss.
To be born woman is to know - although they do not speak of it at school - women must labor to be beautiful.
I thought of rhyme alone, For rhyme can beat a measure out of trouble And make the daylight sweet once more.
Music is not merely a study, it is an entertainment; wherever there is music there is a throng of listeners.
Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger.
It is difficult to get the news from poems, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.
For the beginning is assuredly the end- since we know nothing, pure and simple, beyond our own complexities.
Either I exist or I do not exist, and no amount of pap which I happen to be lapping can dull me to the loss.
Visits are insatiable devourers of time, and fit only for those who, if they did not that, would do nothing.
The admirals of his majesty's fleet are classed into three squadrons, viz. the red, the white, and the blue.
No errors of opinion can possibly be dangerous in a country where opinion is left free to grapple with them.
There's an old saying that applies to me: you can't lose a game if you don't play the game. (Act 1, scene 4)
Come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy, That one short minute gives me in her sight
There's rosemary and rue. These keep Seeming and savor all the winter long. Grace and remembrance be to you.
Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.
This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd So many English kings.