Spring sprang suddenly onto the land.

I have always hated crowds. I like deserts, prisons, and monasteries. I have discovered, too, that there are fewer idiots at 3000 meters above sea level than down below.

Remember, all of man's happiness is in the little valleys. Tiny little ones. Small enough to call from one side to the other.

I should like to write about what happens when fictive people encounter and are embellished by real people.

There are also times in life when a person has to rush off in pursuit of hopefulness.

Boredom is the most horrible of wolves.

The Italians are said to be noisy and to gesticulate, but that is a libel dreamed up by the English.

The women glare at each other. Grin. You have friends when you're fifteen years old. Sometimes you get them back.

One can change the small minds, but it is tad difficult to do it with the small heart whose soul is in small mind only.

Have they defected? They have not gone yet.

I'd rather die than go to heaven.

Facebook wasn't built out of a Harvard dorm window.

We cling nervously to the melody, but we don't handle it freely, we don't really make anything new out of it, we merely overload it.

He's swept with the broom of contempt and the rooms have an empty ring.

I put so much energy into with improv. You can only perform it at a place where people are, essentially, taking improv classes so that they just appreciate what's happening.

Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars for you? That I would take you there? The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube?

Half of figure skating is opinion, convincing judges.