Music is inarticulate poesy.

Jealousy is the jaundice of the soul.

Self-defense is Nature's eldest law.

…So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky

He with a graceful pride, While his rider every hand survey'd, Sprung loose, and flew into an escapade; Not moving forward, yet with every bound Pressing, and seeming still to quit his ground.

When he spoke, what tender words he used! So softly, that like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they fell.

Fool that I was, upon my eagle's wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.

Dead men tell no tales.

Dancing is the poetry of the foot.

The sooner you treat your son as a man, the sooner he will be one.

Fortune befriends the bold.

Ambition is a stairway that never ends.

After the chaos and carnage of September 11th, it is not enough to serve our enemies with legal papers.

Never try to fit a target audience. Write what is true to the characters in their settings and the audience will find you.

There was a typewriter buried alive in that horse, the one I road to get out of the flood.

In debating the respective merits of dogs and cats, not having to walk a cat when it's 20 below zero deserves consideration.

I'm a hustler, baby; I sell water to a well!

I wanted to be a lead singer in a band. I can't sing. I'm almost tone deaf. I still play. Next life, rock'n'roll for sure.

It was an act of devotion. A little like writing or loving someone — it doesn’t always feel worthwhile, but not giving up somehow creates unexpected meaning over time.

If you're running because you want a job that's prestigious or because you have this vague knowledge that you're better than everybody else, you're easier to beat.

People used to say poems were different to songs but I don't think they are.