The clouds that gather round the setting sun, Do take a sober colouring from an eye, That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.

Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.

one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.

Come grow old with me. The best is yet to be.

That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.

How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.

I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.

With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.

Strongest minds are often those whom the noisy world hears least.

The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.

Change is possible. You must want it enough for the change to take place.

Death is the only inescapable, unavoidable, sure thing. We are sentenced to die the day we're born.

You can't truly hate someone you've loved. You can only hurt.

I've sort of prided myself on playing characters with conscience. The first way I go about creating a character is looking at that area of conscience. What have they done, and what has it cost.

The heart of the human problem, is the problem of the human heart.

It is embarrassingly unscientific to speak of anything creating itself from nothing.

It's not enough to have talent. You have to have a talent for your talent.

I am sure care's an enemy to life.

The eye— it cannot choose but see; we cannot bid the ear be still; our bodies feel, where'er they be, against or with our will.

Nothing beats reason for keeping tigers away. But be excessively reasonable and you risk throwing out the universe with the bathwater.