The man that will nocht quhen he may Sall haif nocht quhen he wald.

Nocht is your fairnes bot ane faiding flour, Nocht is your famous laud and hie honour Bot wind inflat in uther mennis eiris.

Louers be war and tak gude heid about Quhome that ye lufe, for quhome ye suffer paine. I lat yow wit, thair is richt few thairout Quhome ye may traist to haue trew lufe agane.

For to be yong I wald not, for my wis, Off all this warld to mak me lord and king: The more of age, the nerar hevynnis blis.

Best thing in eird,I say for me, Is merry hart with small possessioun.

The nuttes schell, thocht it be hard and teuch,Haldis the kirnill, and is delectabill.Sa lyis thair ane doctrine wyse aneuch,And full of fruit, under ane fenyeit Fabill.

In breif Sermone ane pregnant sentence wryte.

Ane bow that is ay bent Worthis ay unsmart and dullis on the string; Sa dois the mynd that is ay diligent In ernistfull thochtis and in studying.

A writer travels through the heart again and again to express the beauty of its contents.

In an endless jungle of websites with text-based content, a beautiful image with a lot of space and colour can be like walking into a clearing. It's a relief.

Never do anything that is unpleasant to others.

The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppose.

Like, I'm hyper-conscious about going to bed on time, and doing my seven-step skin care routine at night.

I wonder how Colin Powell sleeps at night. I would like to have a word with him because he lied. He lied. He lied to me. He lied to my face through the camera at the U.N.

Arguments are too much like disputes.

Chris Christie was going to save the party from a figure like [Donald] Trump. He was going to save the party. That didn't happen. And now, he's with Trump.

I reflected on the fact that no matter how good I aspired to be, I was never going to achieve perfection

I'm always worried about everything. Like spiders.