O Charidas, what of the under world? Great darkness. And what of the resurrection? A lie. And Pluto? A fable; we perish utterly.

A great book is like great evil.

I wept as I remembered how often you and I had tired the sun with talking and sent him down the sky.

Nothing unattested do I sing.

Two goddesses now must Cyprus adore; The Muses are ten, and the Graces are four; Stella's wit is so charming, so sweet her fair face, She shines a new Venus, a Muse, and a Grace.

Big book, a big bore.

I abhor, too, the roaming lover, nor do I drink from every well; I loathe all things in common

A good man never dies.

A big book is a big misfortune.

You're walking by the tomb of Battiades, Who knew well how to write poetry, and enjoy Laughter at the right moment, over the wine.

Here sleeps Saon, of Acanthus, son of Dicon, a holy sleep: say not that the good die.

Don't ever think you're alone here, We've just been trapped in different hells, And people aren't against you dear, They're just all for themselves.

Loyalty and dedication can't be bought or paid to go away.

The garden, by design, is concerned with both the interior and the land beyond the garden.

Heartthrobs are a dime a dozen.

The Stars are a long way off, and their words get somewhat dulled in the message.

As smoking is to the lungs, so is resentment to the soul; even one puff is bad for you.

You make deals in business and in government if you're smart.

No, I grew up admiring people who played ice hockey.

A concern for doctrinal purity should always be based on love of the Lord, not a desire to express spiritual pride.

It does not matter where you come from, if you walk toward the truth you will reach it, whatever path you take.