A poem is never finished, only abandoned.

Books have the same enemies as people: fire, humidity, animals, weather, and their own content.

Man's great misfortune is that he has no organ, no kind of eyelid or brake, to mask or block a thought, or all thought, when he wants to.

War: a massacre of people who don't know each other for the profit of people who know each other but don't massacre each other.

Nothing beautiful can be summarized.

The universe is built on a plan the profound symmetry of which is somehow present in the inner structure of our intellect.

A great man is one who leaves others at a loss after he is gone.

Love is being stupid together.

The trouble with our times is that the future is not what it used to be.

Let us enrich ourselves with our mutual differences.

Sometimes I think, sometimes I am .

Love frees us of all pain, or of any restraint. Once a circle that ever widens without end. Various colors it shines in our lives to paintExcelsis, glorious manifestation to befriend.

Oh soul, you worry too much. Your arms are heavy with treasures of all kinds.

Haemon: No city is property of a single man.Creon: But custom gives possession to the ruler.Haemon: You'd rule a desert beautifully alone.

The dust was antique spice, burnt maple leaves, a prickling blue that teemed and sifted to earth. Swarming its own shadows, the dust filtered over the tents.

Sometimes the very presence of God is barred by our presuppositions and our intense and constant desire for triumph.

If you take cranberries and stew them like apple sauce, it tastes much more like prunes than rhubarb does.

Stop looking at me like that." Sorry, I just wanted to savor the moment," Mom replied. What moment?" I asked. You're in first place," she said, and then began washing the windows.

We have the kind of self-made-man myth, which says that super-successful people did it themselves.

My journey as a player is complete.

Now is not the time for making new enemies.