...Men fear what they themselves have imagined.

The gods conceal from men the happiness of death, that they may endure life

Poverty, the mother of manhood. Also, the mother of prostitution.

The abode of God, too, is wherever is earth and sea and air, and sky and virtue. Why further do we seek the Gods of heaven? Whatever thou dost behold and whatever thou dost touch, that is Jupiter.

As far as the stars are from the earth, and as different as fire is from water, so much do self-interest and integrity differ.

The prosperous man does not know whether he is loved.

An idle life always produces varied inclinations.

Not a stone but has its history.

There stands the shadow of a glorious name.

A crime which is the crime of many none avenge.

As great edifices collapse of their own weight, so Heaven sets a similar limit to the growth of prosperous states.

Our soul contains energy, transformed into Spirit, expressing dreams and thoughts through works of the mind.

The story writes you as much as you write it. And the process of re-writing isn't so much a quest to re-write the story as it is to re-write the writer.

Stardom can be a gilded slavery.

"Subterranean Homesick Blues" [of Bob Dylan] captures, in word-salad format, life in an encroaching police state.

Fitness - if it came in a bottle, everybody would have a great body.

The way my team are doing, we could get Wilt Chamberlain in a trade and find out that he's really two midgets Scotch-taped together.

Death tugs at my ear and says, 'Live. I am coming.

Mistress, I have never asked anything of you in my servitude. But now, I beg you this: do not make me keep passing these adolescent sentiments back and forth all night.

I make very basic country rustic furniture.

Worse than idle is compassion if it ends in tears and sighs.