Fenugreek, Tuesday's spice, when the air is green like mosses after rain.

Each spice has a special day to it. For turmeric it is Sunday, when light drips fat and butter-colored into the bins to be soaked up glowing, when you pray to the nine planets for love and luck.

Each day has a color, a smell.

How can I forgive if you are not ready to give up that which caused you to stumble?

Monday is the day of silence, day of the whole white mung bean, which is sacred to the moon.

Fennel, which is the spice for Wednesdays, the day of averages, of middle-aged people. . . . Fennel . . . smelling of changes to come.

She lifts a bowl of kheer and her thoughts, flittering like dusty sparrows in a brown back alley, turn a sudden kingfisher blue.

To become free from sinful life, there is only simple method: if you surrender to Kṛṣṇa. That is the beginning of bhakti.

The power of gradually losing all feeling of strangeness or astonishment, and finally being pleased at anything, is called the historical sense or historical culture.

If I said I was madly in love with you you'd know I was lying.

Anything in life that we don't accept will simply make trouble for us until we make peace with it.

I know of no time in human history where ignorance was better than knowledge.

The conditions that direct the order of . . . the living world . . . are marked by their persistence in improving the birthright of successive generations.

I've done about four deaths in films now, and I think it's quite good because then it's sort of a memorable moment in the film.

I'd much rather be on stage talking to a couple of retards for twenty bucks than sitting at my desk thinking up jokes for...well let's say a few dollars more.

I'm permanent you can't erase me

At school I'd want to be so small that nobody could see me, and so my work depicts and reflects me - what it felt like to grow up in a world of pain.