Give my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage; And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.

Talking much is a sign of vanity, for the one who is lavish with words is cheap in deeds.

But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust.

If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee, and be thy love.

But true love is a durable fire, In the mind ever burning, Never sick, never old, never dead, From itself never turning.

The most divine light only shineth on those minds which are purged from all worldly dross and human uncleanliness.

But it is hard to know them from friends, they are so obsequious and full of protestations; for a wolf resembles a dog, so doth a flatterer a friend.

[It is a basic principle of a tyrant] to unarm his people of weapons, money and all means whereby they resist his power.

So the heart be right, it is no matter which way the head lieth.

It is not truth, but opinion that can travel the world without a passport.

Whoever commands the sea, commands the trade; whosoever commands the trade of the world commands the riches of the world, and consequently the world itself.

Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift of God, which is why we call it the present.

The hardest things to talk about are the ones we ourselves can't understand.

It seems clear at last that our love for the natural world-Nature-is the only means by which we can requite God's obvious love for it.

The first sense of mutual love excludes other feelings; it will have the soul all to itself.

If robots are to clean our homes, they'll have to do it better than a person.

Scientists think they can now clone an all-white zebra. Now, I'm no expert, but isn't that a horse?

I have actually found myself buying up more and more old analogue gear. I have this strange obsession with old drum machines.

A man who permits his honor to be taken, permits his life to be taken.

Everything's much too big here,' thought Moominmamma. 'Or perhaps I'm too small.

Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered!