Being young you have not known The fool's triumph, nor yet Love lost as soon as won, Nor the best labourer dead And all the sheaves to bind.

There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met.

There is another world, but it is in this one.

Do not wait to strike till the iron is hot; but make it hot by striking.

The Irishman sustains himself during brief periods of joy by the knowledge that tragedy is just around the corner.

Come Fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame!

But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

By logic and reason we die hourly; by imagination we live.

Think like a wise man but communicate in the language of the people.

What man does not understand, he fears; and what he fears, he tends to destroy.

One man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

Nevertheless, in this sea of human wretchedness and malice there bloomed at times compassion, as a pale flower blooms in a putrid marsh.

Bert knows it would take more than a little row to get between us. Because friends like us, like Bert and me, we'll always be together.

Nothing is better than waking up in the morning and being excited to go into work.

I don't write genre stuff in any form. I'm not interested in it. I always try to do the opposite of that.

I don't want to impede free press, by the way. The last thing I would want to do is that.

The bigger the hole inside you, the more desperate you became to fill it.

The love is real in any situation; everything else is just an illusion.

When the party holds the White House, all the political decisions are made in the White House. And being a party chair, you're just an artifact.

Anger is a signal that you're distracted by judgmental or punitive thinking, and that some precious need of yours is being ignored.

The intellectual world is deeply conformist... We talk a lot about the crimes of others. When it comes to our own crimes, we are nationalists in the Orwellian sense.