If there are junk yards in hell, love is the dog that guards the gates.

Understand me. I’m not like an ordinary world. I have my madness, I live in another dimension and I do not have time for things that have no soul.

The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts, while the stupid ones are full of confidence.

Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?

People are strange: They are constantly angered by trivial things, but on a major matter like totally wasting their lives, they hardly seem to notice.

Find what you love and let it kill you.

If something burns your soul with purpose and desire, it’s your duty to be reduced to ashes by it. Any other form of existence will be yet another dull book in the library of life.

Love is a fog that burns with the first daylight of reality.

Sometimes I feel as if we are all trapped in a movie. We know our lines, where to walk, how to act, only there is no camera. Yet, we can't break out of the movie. And it's a bad one.

You have to die a few times before you can really live.

I stopped looking for a Dream Girl, I just wanted one that wasn't a nightmare.

A succubus on the set. Strike that, the health-conscious kid sister made it two… succubuses. Succubusees? Succubi? Stupid Latin correspondence course.

Nothing can alter the fact that God calls perversion sin.

God help England if she had no Scots to think for her.

Macon, wet from the raindrops for the first time.

The wonder is not that so much cacophony appears in our actual individual lives, but that there is any appearance of harmony and progression.

A little rain can straighten a flower stem. A little love can change a life.

Dreams that are realized become an inspiration for new endeavor. It is in the power to make the dream good that we find the hope of this world.

I was always interested in finding the elegance of each style and understanding why it influences so many people.

Philologists, who chase A painting syllable through time and space Start it at home, and hunt it in the dark, To Gaul, to Greece, and into Noah's Ark.

The poorest service is repaid with thanks.