I'm Death, and I make sure that everyone is equal.

How often when we are comfortable, we begin to long for something new!

Love is like death, it must come to us all, but to each his own unique way and time, sometimes it will be avoided, but never can it be cheated, and never will it be forgotten.

The true poet, is like a man who's happy anywhere, in endless measure, if he's allowed to look at leaves and grass, to see the sun rise and set.

Evil is also not anything small or close to home, and not the worst; otherwise one could grow accustomed to it.

Skin white as snow, lips red as blood, and hair black as ebony.

She'll sting you one day, Oh, ever so gently, so you hardly ever feel it. 'til you fall dead.

He who is too well off is always longing for something new.

Chemistry is a gibberish of Latin and German; but in Leibig's hands it becomes a powerful language.

In the olden days, when wishing still worked, there lived a king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest daughter was so lovely that even the sun... was struck with wonder.

They were indeed great rascals, and belonged to that class of people who find things before they are lost.

Real smart begins when you quit quoting other people.

[M]y grandmother...had always complained that our house didn't have a profile that was "significant enough.

Old Care has a mortgage on every estate And that's what you pay for the wealth that you get.

Apple has long been a leading innovator of mobile technology I myself own an iPhone.

To learn is to be young, however old.

The season when to come, and when to go, to sing, or cease to sing, we never know.

Chance is the nature of our universe. [...] madness represents a chaotic reservoir of surprises. Some surprises can be valuable.

A little noiseless noise among the leaves, Born of the very sigh that silence heaves.

Notice, we never pray for folks we gossip about, and we never gossip about the folk for whom we pray! For prayer is a great deterrent.

Backward we traveled to reclaim the day Before we fell, like Icarus, undone; All we find are altars in decay And profane words scrawled black across the sun.