A woman can never be late when she is meeting with a man. But a man can most certainly be late when he is meeting with a woman.

It is neither poor handling nor the weather that turns the pages of a book a fine sepia. It is the reader's imagination.

Ms Rainn, when was the last time you visited a library for the books and not the free Internet it offers?

She lost touch with reality and was dragged into her imagination.

When the imagination takes over, the second hand could be the hour hand to a creator of stories.

The imagination is a wild and dangerous forest that is impossible to know the full might of.

As much as I respect him, he is somewhat of an ignorant fool.

What the future held for spirit, Emily could only imagine.

What could a person like Emily do? Could she possibly satisfy both sides? Or would that only end badly?

Then an argument would ensue because they were men with different ideas.

It was nice meeting you three, and I'm sure under different circumstances it would have been a pleasure.

Because I didn't go to film school, you learn so much from a lot of creative artists.

If what they are saying about you is true, mend your ways. If it isn't true, forget it, and go on and serve the Lord.

There is only one immutable law in life - in a gentleman's toilet, incoming traffic has the right of way.

I warn you, if you bore me, I shall take my revenge.

As before, there is a great silence, with no end in sight. The writer surrenders, listening.

All of us necessarily hold many casual opinions that are ludicrously wrong simply because life is far too short for us to think through even a small fraction of the topics that we come across.

There is no prodigy in our profession. If you see all the great singer of the past, none of them are.

In meditation we research the field without time and space and activity, and yet produce a useful effect while conducting the research.

Yes, even I am dishonest. Not in many ways, but in some. Forty-one, I think it is.

I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.