Life is either always a tight-rope or a featherbed. Give me a tight-rope.

There are two ways of spreading light: to be The candle or the mirror that reflects it.

The desire for symmetry, for balance, for rhythm in form as well as in sound, is one of the most inveterate of human instincts.

To visit Morocco is still like turning the pages of some illuminated Persian manuscript all embroidered with bright shapes and subtle lines.

One can remain alive ... if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity interested in big things and happy in small ways.

If only we'd stop trying to be happy, we could have a pretty good time.

The real loneliness is living among all these kind people who only ask one to pretend!

Nothing is more perplexing to a man than the mental process of a woman who reasons her emotions.

One of the great things about travel is you find out how many good, kind people there are.

Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.

Life is always either; a tight -rope or a feather-bed . — Give me the tightrope.

We often fear to say what is true. Our tongues are tied by the beliefs of the society.

Is it always like that?" I ask, breathless. “No, ” he says. “It's never like that.” I hear the wonder in his voice. And just like that, everything changes.

What matters is hard work, and emotional intelligence.

My cat's fully capable of speaking, but he says he's afraid of me turning it into a Kevin James vehicle.

Theory without practice is just as incomplete as practice without theory.

The mirror is my best friend because when I cry it never laughs.

Wine, like the rising sun, possession gains, And drives the mist of dullness from the brains, The gloomy vapor from the spirit flies, And views of gaiety and gladness rise.

You had to hate the Colonel a whole lot to keep from loving him.

How many hopes and fears, how many ardent wishes and anxious apprehensions are twisted together in the threads that connect the parent with the child!