The mind is like an iceberg, it floats with one-seventh of its bulk above water.

Being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise.

Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.

We choose not randomly each other. We meet only those who already exists in our subconscious.

One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful.

Most people do not really want freedom, because freedom involves responsibility, and most people are frightened of responsibility.

The great question that has never been answered, and which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is 'What does a woman want?'

In the small matters trust the mind, in the large ones the heart.

We are what we are because we have been what we have been.

I prefer the company of animals more than the company of humans. Certainly, a wild animal is cruel. But to be merciless is the privilege of civilized humans.

Love is a state of temporary psychosis.

Part of the reward of entrepreneurship lies in having the courage to believe in yourself and take action.

Well, in the early days of humans, the community was our only protection against predators, and against the starvation. We survived because we trusted one another.

I think I have a real interest in filmmaking, and it's nice when I can go and do that sometimes. Then it's also great to not do it and not have the responsibility .

...and my signature is drawn in magic markeron the lower right hand corner of the windowso when something passes in the darkit's captured for a moment inside my work.

It's nice if people ask to use your song. You have to make a decision as an artist how you feel about that.

Eeew, I'd be a little uncomfortable Googling myself. People sit there - and Google themselves? That's kind of weird.

Anything you are shows up in your music - jazz is whatever you are, playing yourself, being yourself, letting your thoughts come through.

The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well.

Many people must live and die alone, even in Winesburg.