Between living and dreaming there is a third thing. Guess it.

Wanderer, your footsteps are the road, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by walking. By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind one sees the path. . .

Travelers, there is no path, paths are made by walking.

My soul is not asleep. It is awake, wide awake. It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches, its eyes wide open far-off things, and listens at the shores of the great silence.

Beyond living and dreaming there is something more important: waking up.

I thought my fire was out, and stirred the ashes…. I burnt my fingers.

Traveler, there is no path, the path must be forged as you walk.

I dreamt -- marvellous error! -- that I had a beehive here inside my heart. And the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old failures.

Under all that we think, lives all we believe, like the ultimate veil of our spirits

What the poet is searching for is not the fundamental I but the deep you.

Avoid pulpits, platforms, stages and pedestals. Keep to the hard ground. It is the only way you can judge your approximate status as a man.

Must I go bound while you go freeMust I love a manwho doesn't love meMust I be born with so little artAs to love a man who'll break my Heart

I see psychoanalysis, art and biology ultimately coming together, just like cognitive psychology and neuroscience have merged.

Ann Sothern's dressing room...was unbelievably lush and beautiful. More elegant than many homes I've been in.

You could do a hundred projects and still not have the fans that are there for Twilight.

I have been working for years to promote a responsible energy policy that works to increase energy efficiency and invest in alternative and renewable energy sources.

I firmly believe every book was meant to be written.

The way you change and help music is by tryin' to invent new ways to play

I’ve come to ask you where Seth is.” "Funny,” said Andrea. “We were going to ask you the same thing.” I was taken aback. “How would I know?” They both just stared. "I don’t!

But there must be some pleasure in condemning everything--in perceiving faults where others think they see beauties.' 'You mean there is pleasure in having no pleasure.