He could tell her that dogs used to look like cats and vice versa without a lick of proof and it would change the way she regarded the animals.

It is neither poor handling nor the weather that turns the pages of a book a fine sepia. It is the reader's imagination.

Ms Rainn, when was the last time you visited a library for the books and not the free Internet it offers?

She lost touch with reality and was dragged into her imagination.

When the imagination takes over, the second hand could be the hour hand to a creator of stories.

The imagination is a wild and dangerous forest that is impossible to know the full might of.

As much as I respect him, he is somewhat of an ignorant fool.

What the future held for spirit, Emily could only imagine.

What could a person like Emily do? Could she possibly satisfy both sides? Or would that only end badly?

Then an argument would ensue because they were men with different ideas.

It was nice meeting you three, and I'm sure under different circumstances it would have been a pleasure.

I was never afraid of failure

An aphorism ought to be entirely isolated from the surrounding world like a little work of art and complete in itself like a hedgehog.

I think it would be funny for people to read in obituaries of me that my major contribution to the arts was the popularization of the phrases 'neutral facial expression' and 'screaming in agony.'

Whether happy or unhappy, life is the only treasure man possesses.

And I'm full aware of how much you don't like me at this moment" Can't be a new thing for you" Jim said

I would never remake something that was like "The Godfather." Things that are truly important to me, I could never remake or reboot, or whatever.

I always looked at magazines. Ever since I was little I was obsessed with Elle magazine and the models. I would watch the model TV shows, like the specials on Milla Jovovich.

Man's yesterday may never be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability.

The Revelations of Devout and Learn'd Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn'd, Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep They told their comrades, and to Sleep return'd.

I invite you to bow your head and quietly whisper the prayer that will change your eternity: Jesus I believe in you and I receive you.