I have met with women whom I really think would like to be married to a Poem and to be given away by a Novel.

Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.

The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mind about nothing, to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.

A hope beyond the shadow of a dream.

Land and sea, weakness and decline are great separators, but death is the great divorcer for ever.

Shed no tear - O, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year. Weep no more - O, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root's white core.

Open afresh your rounds of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds.

And when thou art weary I'll find thee a bed, Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.

Neither poetry, nor ambition, nor love have any alertness of countenance as they pass by me.

You are always new, the last of your kisses was ever the sweetest.

He who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare, And he who has one enemy will meet him everywhere.

Keep a big glass of cool water close while reading this one. —Margaret Smith

Not having all the information can make me feel vulnerable.

I'm passionate about being true to myself, sending good energy to the people around me, traveling, staying inspired, being a good friend, being a good daughter, being a good sister.

We are all proud of having thus contributed to the heretofore magnificent successes of our army.

Oh to reach the point of death and realize one has not lived at all.

Tell me, do you spend time with your family? Good. Because a man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.

To become a theoretical physicist ... you need to have a passionate love affair with the universe.

I've been taking a trapeze class for the last couple of years. I'm working on my double back flip right now.

Who then understands the reciprocal flux and reflux of the infinitely great and the infinitely small, the echoing of causes in the abysses of being, and the avalanches of creation?