More of your conversation would infect my brain.

They lie deadly that tell you have good faces.

These are the ushers of Martius: before himHe carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears.Death, that dark spirit, in's nervy arm doth lie, Which being advanc'd, declines, and then men die.

And Sir, it is no little thing to make mine eyes to sweat compassion.

Let us revenge this withour pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know Ispeak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge.

If e'er again I meet him beard to beard, he's mine or I am his.

I think he'll be to Rome as is the osprey to the fish, who takes it by sovereignty of nature.

it's okay to be addicted to beauty, " Mom says, all dreamy. "Emerson said 'beauty is God's handwriting.

He clenched his small fist, bellowed his rage to the heavens, and resolved to never again recognize the authority of any man on earth.

A friend is like a poem.

I have this idyllic love life, but my mind just won't accept that. I would like to bring a new guy home every night. I try to make humor out of that situation.

The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.

To be great, art has to point somewhere.

Maybe you're going insane." "Maybe," agreed Kernel. "I was joking." "I wasn't.

I'm a progressive who likes to get things done.

To know oneself means, among other things, to know oneself qua non-sage: that is, not as a sophos, but as a philo-sophos, someone on the way toward wisdom.

To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks, with heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth