I have heard Will Honeycomb say, A Woman seldom Writes her Mind but in her Postscript.

Whoever said money can't buy happiness didn't know where to shop

Everybody gets so much information all day long that they lose their common sense.

A vegetable garden in the beginning looks so promising and then after all little by little it grows nothing but vegetables, nothing, nothing but vegetables.

You'll be old and you never lived, and you kind of feel silly to lie down and die and to never have lived, to have been a job chaser and never have lived.

You are all a lost generation.

America is my country and Paris is my hometown.

In the morning there is meaning, in the evening there is feeling.

Love: the skillful audacity required to share an inner life.

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.

That is what you are. That's what you all are...All of you young people who served in the war. You are a lost generation.

I am struck by how sharing our weakness and difficulties is more nourishing to others than sharing our qualities and successes.

A rhythm becomes a habit when we can no longer hear the music.

For my confirmation, I didn't get a watch and my first pair of long pants, like most Lutheran boys. I got a telescope. My mother thought it would make the best gift.

Haruhi: Whaddaya think I am?! The Twins: To us? Why that's obvious-- a toy!

To exult over the miseries of an unhappy creature is inhuman.

Information is the most valuable commodity in the world today and this business is about giving people access to information that is relevant to their lives.

Whenever I'm stuck in traffic, I can't help but wonder, 'Where did the creator of The Jetsons go, and why hasn't he done something about this?'

Adding highway lanes to deal with traffic congestion is like loosening your belt to cure obesity.

Whether it’s chocolate or socks, the rule is the same; the darker the better.

There is no sound so terrible as a man's sorrow for his own death.