It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn.

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after.

Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.

Cathy, this lamb of yours threatens like a bull!' he said. 'It is in danger of splitting its skull against my knuckles. By God! Mr. Linton, I'm mortally sorry that you are not worth knocking down!

I have dreamed in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind.

A person who has not done one half his day's work by ten o clock, runs a chance of leaving the other half undone.

I will walk where my own nature would be leading.

No coward soul is mine.

I'm wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there; not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart; but really with it, and in it.

Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.

What you repeatedly do carries the clay to mold you into who you eventually become. Don’t despise any tiny minute of the day

You can't take good health for granted.

Have enough courage to start and enough heart to finish.

If we remain wedded to the way education is currently provided we cannot imagine other ways. We need some imagination, some fantasy, some new ways of thinking - some magic in fact.

I didn't choose acting. It chose me.

Write as often as possible, not with the idea at once of getting into print, but as if you were learning an instrument.

I guess that is what dying must be like; to be finished and to be able to look back at the struggles of life, and know that God was your constant companion.

O how the darkness do crowd up, one against the other, in ye hearts! What fear ye more that what ye have wroughten?

What song the Syrens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he hid himself among women, though puzzling questions, are not beyond all conjecture.

Give me life, give me pain, give me myself again.