Sweet bird that shunn'st the nose of folly, Most musical, most melancholy! Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among, I woo, to hear thy even-song.

Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts And eloquence.

The end of all learning is to know God, and out of that knowledge to love and imitate Him.

He who reigns within himself and rules passions, desires, and fears is more than a king.

He who destroys a good book kills reason itself.

Have hung My dank and dropping weeds To the stern god of sea.

O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day!

Sabrina fair, Listen where thou art sitting Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair.

There is nothing that making men rich and strong but that which they carry inside of them. True wealth is of the heart, not of the hand.

Love Virtue, she alone is free, She can teach ye how to climb Higher than the sphery chime; Or, if Virtue feeble were, Heav'n itself would stoop to her.

I sat me down to watch upon a bank With ivy canopied and interwove With flaunting honeysuckle.

LOVE is, can, and will.

Because sometimes I live in a hurricane of wordsand not one of them can save me.

How boys transitioned from bothersome pests to men who made her pulse skip a beat and her head swim in a flood of pleasurable sensations was beyond her. Perhaps this was the true definition of magic.

I like the opportunity to travel the world and work in close company with other people.

A lot of Arabs have proven to themselves that there is an alternative to Bin Laden-ism if they want to do away with the corrupt, autocratic regimes in their countries.

I wear my heart on my sleeve. I wear my liver on my pant leg.

I came from a house full of books, so I took reading for granted. I was an outdoorsy little kid, too, so I got the best of both worlds by taking books up trees and reading there.

Jerry and I hoped that it would be a popular bestseller.

The artist can within limits make what he likes of his life... It is only the artist, and maybe the criminal, who can make his own.

In a reality made of energy, thoughts may literally be things. What if it was intended that we create our own realities after death?