When chill November's surly blast Made fields and forests bare.

Oh would some power the gift give us, to see ourselves as others see us!

My heart 's in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My heart 's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer.

Now's the day and now's the hour.

Gie me ae spark o' Nature's fire, That's a' the learning I desire.

There is no such uncertainty as a sure thing.

The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, and violets bathe in the wet o' the morn.

The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men, Gang aft a-gley, And leave us nought but grief and pain, For promised joy.

Dare to be honest and fear no labor.

But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, it's bloom is shed; Or, like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white, then melts forever.

Within a science fictional space, memory and regret are, when taken together, the set of necessary and sufficient elements required to produce a time machine.

Writing as a creative art flourishes only when there are no rules. Rules stifle you from entering the silent and forbidden spaces where the core of the story is waiting to be revealed.

The persistent problem in photography is how to look at it.

* The essential respect is the one in your own heart for yourself.

In our age of increasing distractions it's more important than ever to find ways to maintain perspective and remember that life is brief and tender.

I'm 49, I've had a brain haemorrhage and a triple bypass and I could still go out and play a reasonable game of rugby union. But I wouldn't last 30 seconds in rugby league.

The truth I know for sure is that god is the creator of all things. And to not take ourselves too seriously.

Love is the art of hearts, and heart or arts.

When one told Plistarchus that a notorious railer spoke well of him, "I'll lay my life," said he, "somebody hath told him I am dead, for he can speak well of no man living.'

Are you moving forward, or just moving?