Grief dejects and wrings the tortured soul.

The press, the pulpit, and the stage, Conspire to censure and expose our age.

Choose an author as you would a friend.

You must not think that a satiric style allows of scandalous and brutish words; the better sort abhor scurrility.

Pride (of all others the most dang'rous fault) Proceeds from want of sense, or want of thought.

The men, who labour and digest things most, Will be much apter to despond than boast; For if your author be profoundly good, 'Twill cost you dear before he's understood.

Abstruse and mystic thoughts you must express With painful care, but seeming easiness; For truth shines brightest thro' the plainest dress.

Tis I that call, remember Milo's end, Wedged in that timber which he strove to rend.

Immodest words admit of no defence, For want of decency is want of sense.

We weep and laugh, as we see others do.

The last loud trumpet's wondrous sound, Shall thro' the rending tombs rebound, And wake the nations under ground.

It's weird, all you think about when you're young is gaining your independence, but when those final hours come, people want to go home.

Great literature will insist upon its self-sufficiency in the face of the worthiest causes

Did you ever know that you're a jackass?

With luck, it might even snow for us.

P.P.S. AND YOU CAN TALK. "Just say the word." JUST SAY THE WORD? What kind of expression is that? WHAT WORD WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SAY ANYWAY? MORON? Letter from Emily to Charles.

I keep kind of making certain mistakes in public appearances over and over again.

I'd rather enjoy the money, and then be buried, offering my body back to the flora and fauna of which I have dined my whole life.

I think jeans with a little give are the smartest for a flight.

You are as strong as you think you are, you can achieve things you think you can achieve, its all in your head

That's where the future lies, in the youth of today.