Love is the tact of every good, The only warmth, the only peace.

Time is the school in which we learn, Time is the fire in which we burn.

Existentialism means that no one else can take a bath for you.

What was the freedom to which the adult human being rose in the morning, if each act was held back or inspired by the overpowering ghost of a little child?

Even paranoids have real enemies.

Major writing is to say that which has been seen, so that it need never be said again; so that which has been seen increases, changes in reality, in being.

Love is the most difficult and dangerous form of courage. Courage is the most desperate, admirable and noble kind of love.

Poetry must be as new as foam & old as rock.

Order and disorder, form and formless must have profound psychological roots, nervous roots.

How could I think the brief years were enough To prove the reality of endless love?

And hence the poet must seek to be essentially anonymous, He must die a little death each morning, He must swallow his toad and study his vomit as Baudelaire studied la charogne of Jeanne Duval.

The great greatest gift you can give him is the freedom to spread his wings.

We are all stronger, smarter, talented, beautiful, and more resilient than we were told.

When someone is buying a sample-based album, they are investing in the concept of that album. If they really like the original source material, they can go buy it.

It is my faith and conviction that the Constitution came not alone of the brain and purpose of man, but of the inspiration of God.

Rather than hearing from the city council president, you'd hear from sources all across the country.

Lovers remember everything. [Lat., Meminerunt omnia amantes.]

Perfect does not mean perfect actions in a perfect world, bur appropriate actions in an imperfect one.

Trusting God completely means having faith that he knows what is best for your life. You expect him to keep his promises, help you with problems, and do the impossible when necessary.

At first, she loved nought else but flowers, And then-she only loved the rose; And then-herself alone; and then- She knew not what, but now-she knows.

Silence remains, inescapably, a form of speech.