How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view.

The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well.

Then soon with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well.

How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection recalls them to view; The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood, And every loved spot which my infancy knew.

How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood When fond recollection presents them to view.

We are never free when we imprison ourselves in the prison of our fixed, false beliefs.

And Shanghai is amazing. I'm a fan of science fiction so when you're there in the night with all the lights and all this modernity, it's like a set in a movie.

Even when I go to a salad bar, I need to feel like I'm one of the first people there.

The man who does his work, any work, conscientiously, must always be in one sense a great man.

I think the simpler it is when you have a crazy character to play is almost more creepy and interesting.

I don't know where to put whales. I'm sticking them here, but I don't have any reason for it.

The highest service we can perform for others is to help them help themselves.

Conscious awareness is the source of our healing...Only when you say the truth can the truth set you free. This is not a negative process, but at times it is a difficult process.

Time rushes towards us with its hospital tray of infinitely varied narcotics, even while it is preparing us for its inevitably fatal operation.

For honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey a sauce to sugar.