Are we so made that we have to take death in small doses daily or we could not go on with the business of living?

Love, the poet said, is woman's whole existence.

Better was it to go unknown and leave behind you an arch, then to burn like a meteor and leave no dust.

He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

. . . clumsiness is often mated with a love of solitude.

As long as she thinks of a man, nobody objects to a woman thinking.

Nothing thicker than a knife's blade separates happiness from melancholy.

Vain trifles as they seem, clothes have, they say, more important offices than to merely keep us warm. They change our view of the world and the world's view of us.

By the truth we are undone. Life is a dream. 'Tis the waking that kills us. He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

The flower bloomed and faded. The sun rose and sank. The lover loved and went. And what the poets said in rhyme, the young translated into practice.

Was not writing poetry a secret transaction, a voice answering a voice?

Fire wants to burn Water wants to flow Air wants to rise Earth wants to bindChaos wants to devourCal wants to live

Maybe anosognosia, the inability to see your own disability, is the human condition and I'm the only one who doesn't suffer from it.

I think they are a better race than humans ever were.

I like a story that could never happen to me. If I want real life I'll read a newspaper.

I have always felt a little homeless. It's a strange thing.

If we look straight and deep into a chimpanzee's eyes, an intelligent self-assured personality looks back at us. If they are animals, what must we be?

It's no use locking the door after the steed is stolen.

If you get 100 million streams on a song and you're only being paid on 20 percent, the check's not going to look good. The money's not going to look fair.

I believe in living in the present and making each day count. I don't pay much attention to the past or the future.

Originality will be rewarded in any line.