If this be to have sense, if to be awake Be but to see this bright, great sleep of things, For the rarer potion mine own dreams I'll take And for truth commune with imaginings

The value of things is not the time they last, but the intensity with which they occur. That is why there are unforgettable moments and unique people!

Life is what we make of it. Travel is the traveler. What we see isn't what we see but what we are.

My soul is a hidden orchestra; I know not what instruments, what fiddlestrings and harps, drums and tamboura I sound and clash inside myself. All I hear is the symphony.

The slope takes you to the windmill, but effort takes you nowhere.

We never love anyone. What we love is the idea we have of someone. It's our own concept—our own selves—that we love.

There are no norms. All people are exceptions to a rule that doesn’t exist.

Everything interests me, but nothing holds me.

I am nothing. I'll never be anything. I couldn't want to be something. Apart from that, I have in me all the dreams in the world.

It's been a long time since I've been me.

I bear the wounds of all the battles I avoided.

I'd lost myself in the abyss of someone else's tyranny...again.

Someone's got to do some more research, but I would really like to know: when a CBT therapist really gets distressed, who does he go see?

It is courage, courage, courage, that raises the blood of life to crimson splendor. Live bravely and present a brave front to adversity.

The right way to reign in healthcare costs is not by applying more government and more controls and making it more like the post office, it's by making it more like a consumer-driven market.

My family joke that I'm really a very senior person who accidentally happens to be 11.

Indemnity for the past and security for the future.

Dead people belong to the live people who claim them most obsessively.

Like, according to the old proverb, naturally goes with like.

The delivery of medical care is to do as much nothing as possible.

I’m in a shallow hole, not filled with the humming orange bubbles of my hallucination but with old, dead leaves.