For love all love of other sights controls and makes one little room an everywhere

No Spring nor Summer beauty hath such grace As I have seen in one Autumnal face.

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent.

Death comes equally to us all, and makes us all equal when it comes.

Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

Busy old fool, unruly Sun, why dost thou thus through windows and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers seasons run?

Twice or thrice had I loved thee before I knew thy face or name, so in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, angels affect us oft, and worshiped be.

What gnashing is not a comfort, what gnawing of the worm is not a tickling, what torment is not a marriage bed to this damnation, to be secluded eternally, eternally, eternally from the sight of God?

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

More than kisses, letters mingle souls.

When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language.

Have a clear goal and plan. Waste no effort in your journey. Be strong, committed, and effective and you will experience a level of success few will ever know.

You can never plan the future by the past.

Look as a painted man is no man and as painted fire is no fire so a cold prayer is no prayer.

Over done forgotten gone now my troubles will move on.

What was the use of my having come from Oakland it was not natural to have come from there yes write about it if I like or anything if I like but not there, there is no there there.

I shall pray for your soul,' promised Nessarose. I shall wait for your shoes,' Elphie answered.

Writing fiction, like reading fiction, is a practice in empathy.

I promise to deliver a corruption-free India... people have chosen our government to get rid of black money.

Hip is the sophistication of the wise primitive in a giant jungle.

The race of life is a marathon, not a sprint.