Opera lovers may be the narrowest people in the world.

I want to write about people who dream and wait for the night to end, who long for the light so they can hold the ones they love.

Don't tell me anymore. You should have your dream, as the old woman told you to. I understand how you feel, but if you put those feelings into words they will turn into lies. (from Thailand)

It's just a feeling I have. What you see with your eyes is not necessarily real. My enemy is, among other things, the me inside me.

The whole terrible fight occured in the area of imagination. That is the precise location of our battlefield. It is there, that we experience our victories and defeats.

Have your dream...What you need now more than anything is discipline. Cast off mere words. Words turn into stone. (from Thailand)

What I was chasing in circles must have been the tail of the darkness inside me.

I just gave them a little scare. A touch of psychological terror. As Joseph Conrad once wrote, true terror is the kind that men feel towards their imagination. (from Super-frog Saves Tokyo)

It's not right for one friend to do all the giving and the other to do all the taking: that's not read friendship.

Living and dying are, in a sense, of equal value.

Words left their mouths to hang frozen in midair.

While you are busy thinking that it's impossible, there is someone somewhere in the world that is making it possible.

Jazz stands for freedom. It's supposed to be the voice of freedom: Get out there and improvise, and take chances, and don't be a perfectionist - leave that to the classical musicians.

It is hard to notice age in those who dream.

A well dressed man is a best accessory a woman can have

Donald Trump seems to think it is within his rights to trample the First Amendment, to disdain the press, to punish protesters or flag-burners, to ban ethnic categories of immigrants, and so on.

He is, as you say, a remarkable horse, a prodigious horse, although as you very justly observe, a suspicious and untractable character.

There are no ugly cigars, only ugly smokers.

I wish our love was right now.

California is an Italy without its art.

What probing deep Has ever solved the mystery of sleep?