False love, desire, and beauty frail, adieu! Dead is the root whence all these fancies grew.

Talking much is a sign of vanity, for the one who is lavish with words is cheap in deeds.

But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust.

If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee, and be thy love.

But true love is a durable fire, In the mind ever burning, Never sick, never old, never dead, From itself never turning.

The most divine light only shineth on those minds which are purged from all worldly dross and human uncleanliness.

But it is hard to know them from friends, they are so obsequious and full of protestations; for a wolf resembles a dog, so doth a flatterer a friend.

[It is a basic principle of a tyrant] to unarm his people of weapons, money and all means whereby they resist his power.

So the heart be right, it is no matter which way the head lieth.

It is not truth, but opinion that can travel the world without a passport.

Whoever commands the sea, commands the trade; whosoever commands the trade of the world commands the riches of the world, and consequently the world itself.

You consider me for a moment, perhaps balancing the weight of your fear against the loneliness you will later feel in your room if you do not speak now

Three Spaniards four opinions.

Good design keeps the user happy, the manufacturer in the black and the aesthete unoffended.

I'm always looking for something that's versatile from the last.

The first rule of Zombieland: Cardio. When the zombie outbreak first hit, the first to go, for obvious reasons ... were the fatties.

If we'd put them in a vase in the living room, they would have been everyone's flowers. I wanted them to be my flowers.

I do not outline. There are writers I know and count as my friends who certainly do it the other way but for me part of the adventure is not knowing how it's going to turn out.

I think that the leaf of a tree, the meanest insect on which we trample, are in themselves arguments more conclusive than any which can be adduced that some vast intellect animates Infinity.

Shudder, in fact, is not quite the word for the feeling. Feeling is not quite the word for the feeling. How's bathing at knifepoint in the phlegm of the dead? Is that a feeling?

I certainly could've gone off track many, many times in my youth.