For pines are gossip pines the wide world through And full of runic tales to sigh or sing.

I have seen old ships sail like swans asleep.

For lust of knowing what should not be known, we take the Golden Road to Samarkand.

Half to forget the wandering and pain, Half to remember days that have gone by, And dream and dream that I am home again!

I look down the farthest side of the mountain, fulfilled and understanding all, and truly content that I lived a full life and one that was my own choice

And some to Meccah turn to pray, and I toward thy bed, Yasmin.

The poet's business is not to save the soul of man but to make it worth saving.

A ship, an isle, a sickle moon With few but with how splendid stars The mirrors of the sea are strewn Between their silver bars!

But have you wine and music still,And statues and a bright-eyed love,And foolish thoughts of good and ill,And prayers to them who sit above?

For the spear was a desert physician, That cured not a few of ambition, And drave not a few to perdition, With medicine bitter and strong.

When the great markets by the sea shut fastAll that calm Sunday that goes on and on:When even lovers find their peace at last,And Earth is but a star, that once had shone.

The older a wizard grows, the more silent he becomes, like a woody vine growing over time to choke a garden path, deep and full of moss and snakes, running everywhere, impenetrable.

I love scary movies. I like blood and gore, and I love Halloween movies.

There's something about the processional nature of the architecture, of the rooms connecting rooms. It's just breathtaking.

The onset of one religion can be resisted only by another.

Strong souls Live like fire-hearted suns to spend their strength In farthest striving action; breathe more free In mighty anguish than in trivial ease.

I would like to deny all allegations by Bob Hope that during my last game of golf, I hit an eagle, a birdie, an elk and a moose.

A pronoun, too, will aptly reflect the number of its antecedent: "they" does not refer to one person, no matter how many personalities she or he has, or how eager you are to skirt the gender frays.

You really can't explain how you do the things you do. I can't, anyway. I love certain actors, but sometimes they say the stupidest things about technique. I don't want to say something stupid.

Our brain simulates reality. So, our everyday experiences are a form of dreaming, which is to say, they are mental models, simulations, not the things they appear to be.

Believe you can do it and you are halfway there