Reapportionment is not friendly to a lot of communities and it hasn't been too friendly to mine.

The Iraq war took priority over domestic disaster prevention.

At least 23,000 civilians have also died in the Iraqi killing field and the U.S. is stuck in a quagmire.

We owe it to the flood victims of New Orleans to give them truthful answers as to why this event took place and to assure our citizens that tragedies like this will never happen again.

As a nation we should commit ourselves not only to the fight against terrorism, but to economic justice, defeat of the AIDS epidemic and vestiges of discriminatory policies of all kinds.

It's impossible for us to forecast what's going to happen ten years from now and make a decision today to say what we're going to do.

There were no weapons of mass destruction and Saddam Hussein was not involved in the September 11th attack.

Without question, conditions in the Haiti are worse since Aristide's removal, and continue to deteriorate.

The President is destroying the fabric of America with a combined policy of war, tax cuts for the wealthy, and reductions in spending for domestic needs.

If a young fella has an option of having a decent career or joining the army to fight in Iraq, you can bet your life that he would not be in Iraq.

Well, I really think that shatters the myth of white supremacy once and for all.

Ruin is a gift. Ruin is the road to transformation.

All I care for is the inclusion of my name in the list of the believers of the supremacy of human soul over all other masterpieces He has ever produced.

Berlin is the place to which I am most closely bound by human and scientific ties.

Spiritual maturity is measured not by the sophistication of a person's opinions, but by their genuineness and the courage necessary to express and maintain them.

Neither should, for the same reason, the lessons be for too long a period; they fatigue and bore a horse, and it should be returned to the stable with the same good spirits it had upon leaving it.

He stops, looks up at this window, and I can see the white oblong of his face. We look at each other. I have no rose to toss, he has no lute. But it's the same kind of hunger.

Michael still thought of Havana as home, because he was born there. And he had been Miguel Arroya there. Here, he was Michael.

When I look at pictures I have made, I have forgotten what I saw in front of the camera and respond only to what I am seeing in the photographs.

There is thought, and then there is thinking about thoughts, and they don't feel the same.

Creating a really believable world is just insanely hard