But see, the shepherds shun the noonday heat, The lowing herds to murmuring brooks retreat, To closer shades the panting flocks remove; Ye gods! And is there no relief for love?

The greatest magnifying glasses in the world are a man's own eyes when they look upon his own person.

Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

A little learning is a dangerous thing; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.

In faith and hope the world will disagree, but all mankind's concern is charity.

To err is human; to forgive, divine.

Teach me to feel another's woe, to hide the fault I see, that mercy I to others show, that mercy show to me.

The best way to prove the clearness of our mind, is by showing its faults; as when a stream discovers the dirt at the bottom, it convinces us of the transparency and purity of the water.

Chiefs who no more in bloody fights engage, But wise through time, and narrative with age, In summer-days like grasshoppers rejoice - A bloodless race, that send a feeble voice.

While pensive poets painful vigils keep, Sleepless themselves, to give their readers sleep.

See! From the brake the whirring pheasant springs, And mounts exulting on triumphant wings; Short is his joy! He feels the fiery wound, Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground.

We've stayed really normal and down to Earth I think, and haven't let the success thing go to our head.

It is hard to see Judge Roberts as a judicial activist who would place ideological purity or a particular agenda above or ahead the need for thoughtful legal reasoning.

Well, I've always been interested in approaching a big city in a train, and I can't exactly describe the sensations, but they're entirely human and perhaps have nothing to do with aesthetics.

A person who wants to progress more rapidly and wishes to overcome unhappiness sooner, should try to find an enlightened master.

We are unique. Chimpanzees are unique. Dogs are unique. But we humans are just not as different as we used to think.

If you grow up normal, you'll only be normal.

The English have always been greedy for news of times past, with that mixture of fatalism and melancholy which is part of the national character.

How does a kid from Coos Bay, with one leg longer than the other win races?

The very air had screams smeared on it. He flinched from the noise in this silent room.

You get what I call the natural progression, the three Is. The innovators, the imitators, and the idiots.