All beginnings are very troublesome things.

Imagination is to love what gas is to the balloon-that which raises it from earth.

I think hearts are very much like glasses. If they do not break with the first ring, they usually last a considerable time.

Ah, tell me not that memory sheds gladness o'er the past, what is recalled by faded flowers, save that they did not last?

Social life is filled with doubts and vain aspirings; solitude, when the imagination is dethroned, is turned to weariness and ennui.

The heart's hushed secret in the soft dark eye.

Ah, tell me not that memory Sheds gladness o'er the past; What is recalled by faded flowers, Save that they did not last? Were it not better to forget, Than but remember and regret?

In sad truth, half our forebodings of our neighbors are but our own wishes, which we are ashamed to utter in any other form.

An apt quotation is like a lamp which flings its light over the whole sentence.

there is nothing so easy as to be wise for others; a species of prodigality, by-the-by - for such wisdom is wholly wasted.

Strange mystery of our nature, that those in whom genius develops itself in imagination, thus taking its most ethereal form, should yet be the most dependent on the opinions of others!

Karma is a balance sheet of life which debits and credit all your deeds.YourWhich is audited by our creator and actions are based on what we accumulated in it.

To a great mind, nothing is little.

The man who glories in his luck may be overthrown by destiny.

The essence of a man is found in his faults.

Well look, no one takes pleasure from people making money out of the misery of others, but that is a function of capitalist markets.

Life will always remain a gamble, with prizes sometimes for the imprudent, and blanks so often to the wise.

Equilibrium is a figment of the human imagination.

The policy of seeking values from human beings by means of force, when practiced by an individual, is called crime. When practiced by a government, it is called statism.

Day and night my thoughts incline To the blandishments of wine, Jars were made to drain, I think; Wine, I know, was made to drink.

This is New York, and there's no law against being annoying.