We all feel disabled in some way. We all feel imperfect. It's hard to be looked at for various reasons.

When Time is spent, Eternity begins.

The lands are lit with all the autumn blaze of golden-rod, and everywhere the purple asters nod and bend and wave and flit.

The tongue is more easily controlled than the features of the face; and though the heart may be secret, the face is transparent.

We can live a life full and complete, thinking with our heads but living from our hearts.

When you first entered the restaurant, I thought you were handsome... and then, of course, you spoke.

O suns and skies and clouds of June, and flowers of June together. Ye cannot rival for one hour October's bright blue weather.

I shall be found with 'Indians' engraved on my brain when I am dead. A fire has been kindled within me, which will never go out.

Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what's in a name?

O proudly name their names who bravely sail| To seek brave lost in Arctic snows and seas!

When love is at its best, one loves so much that he cannot forget.

There is no one who was supposed to come to this world and leave empty.

If we say we believe in equality for all then we must fight for equality for all, not betray our immigrant sisters.

It's time for the human race to enter the solar system.

Well, Id say all of us are a combination of moods and emotions. In my day to day life I dont go around skipping, but at times one can feel sheer exhilarating joy at the world.

I was a solipsist and a narcissist and much too arrogant. I have a lot more compassion now, but it took a long time.

I see my finished platinum print (in the viewfinder) in all its desired qualities, before my exposure.

The vision of an entire world becoming just like us is at least as discomfiting as the thought that most of it won't.

All duality is a mind creation, all duality is created by the clinging and attached mind. When there is no attachment there is no duality.

The prerequisite for an ideology is possession of a basic truth.

The smell of death was thick in the city of Vara?asi. And in Tokyo as well. And yet the birds blissfully sang their songs.