If all the rich people in the world divided up their money among themselves, there wouldn't be enough to go around.

No rich man is a patriot, no rich man is a friend. They have all only got one fatherland the Ritz-Carlton; and one friend the mistress they're promising to divorce their wives for.

A self-made man is one who believes in luck and sends his son to Oxford.

The waste, the insane freaks of these money men, the cynicism and egotism of their life... I'll show that they are not brilliant, not romantic, not delightful, not intelligent.

Venus can see at night without eyes.

Creation of something out of nothing is the most primitive of human passions and the most optimistic

When people are collecting gold they aren't doing business. ... Gold is constipation: even bankruptcy is more fluid. Gold isn't wealth: positions in markets are wealth.

About myself - no. I'm unimportant, an observer, a wandering animal.

Charm is a cunning self-forgetfulness.

Gentlemen are overestimated, that is my experience.

Loneliness is a terrible blindness.

Strong people don't put others down. They lift them up and slam them on the ground for maximum damage.

Every revolution starts with the aim to help the poor, but when the poor get it they forget who they were and become the new oppressors. The cycle goes on forever

Music, dance and meditation are the best medicine for body, soul and spirit.

Pursue what catches your heart, not what catches your eye.

Happiness is the ultimate goal...The mistake we make is not going for happiness first. If we did, everything else would follow.

The Red Sox are a religion. Every year we re-enact the agony and the temptation in the Garden. Baseball child's play? Hell, up here in Boston it's a passion play.

The only people who think writing is easy are people who don't write. Writing's a difficult, courageous act. Bravery is required, as well as a great deal of slogging along. A lot of our work is work.

Listen to your own Self. If you listen to that Self within, then you find the Truth.

The shreiking fight or the out-of-character insult endures forever, while the daily sweetness dissolves like sugar in water.

Time is rhythm: the insect rhythm of a warm humid night, brain ripple, breathing, the drum in my temple—these are our faithful timekeepers; and reason corrects the feverish beat.