The little bit (two inches wide) of ivory on which I work with so fine a brush as produces little effect after much labour.

There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart.

My heart is, and always will be, yours.

It isn't what we say or think that defines us, but what we do.

There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.

The younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder.

Our scars make us know that our past was for real

None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.

What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps one in a continual state of inelegance.

Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken.

The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.

I accept love and bliss from benevolent, highly vibrational spirit friends for my highest good.

Regardless of one’s age, acquiring new knowledge has always been useful.

May we be free of the tyranny of our expectations of others.

You cannot feed the hungry on statistics.

Even people who aren't sick may not have optimal wellness.

You know, many people believe that we archaeologists are just a collection of old fogies digging around in the ruins after old dried up skulls and bones.

I just owe it to myself, to God and to everybody who supports me and people who don't even know me yet, to just be fully intentional and authentically real with everything I do, say and create.

You want me to give her a key?" the guy asked. "I want you to give her a possibility," she told him, looking at my necklace again. "And that's what a key represents. An open door, a chance. You know?

I am very into genealogy and heritage, and that's how I started writing.

We come from the future, essentially, because we have all these ideas about gender equality, sexual freedom, and these are not shared by the working class, the peasantry among whom we work.