First love, " said Ida with a sigh. "That's the one that kills you.

Because sooner or later, all kinds of love - crazy love, wild love- fade into the same thing. The love becomes old and predictable -safe.

Audrey, if you had the choice, would you rather be his muse or be in his arms?" "I want to be both. I know it's the exception rather than the rule, but I can't hepl what I want.

That night, we talked the way old friends do, with candor and ease.

I can't believe how hard it is. The pain is indescribable. It's like I've been turned into sandstone and my insides are being slowly hollowed out by a chisel and mallet.

Your first love isn't the first person you give your heart to- it's the first one who beaks it.

Our emotions pull us in different directions. The stronger the emotion, the greater the pull. Feelings are not always practical, nor do they make any logical sense. That's just the way it goes.

You can create something that is pure genius, but you have to get your timing right.

Writing is a conduit. It opens up a passageway into the past. Not just for the writer, but for the reader too. Both readers and writer are linked by the commonality of human experience.

But deep this truth impress'd my mind: Thro' all His works abroad, The heart benevolent and kindThe most resembles God.

Your greatest actions are those that meet another’s greatest need.

It’s all right to tell a man to lift himself by his own bootstraps, but it is cruel jest to say to a bootless man that he ought to lift himself by his own bootstraps.

I was surprised at how easy it was to get into hell, but then again, wasn't hell the easier path to take?

We continue to shape our personality all our life. If we knew ourselves perfectly, we should die.

A college degree is not a sign that one is a finished product but an indication a person is prepared for life.

Military missions cannot be a normal tool of politics, but instead must remain the great exception.

Sometimes witches merit saving. Quite often, actually. You'd be surprised.

The poets are nothing but interpreters of the gods, each one possessed by the divinity to whom he is in bondage.

Women's hearts are like old china, none the worse for a break or two.