The voice had an extraordinary sadness. Pure from all body, pure from all passion, going out into the world, solitary, unanswered, breaking against rocks—so it sounded.

Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night.

Fatigue is the safest sleeping draught.

Every face, every shop, bedroom window, public-house, and dark square is a picture feverishly turned--in search of what? It is the same with books. What do we seek through millions of pages?

It is no use trying to sum people up.

When the body escaped mutilation, seldom did the heart go to the grave unscarred.

Indeed there has never been any explanation of the ebb and flow in our veins--of happiness and unhappiness.

I like books whose virtue is all drawn together in a page or two. I like sentences that don't budge though armies cross them.

They say the sky is the same everywhere. Travellers, the shipwrecked, exiles, and the dying draw comfort from the thought[.]

anyone who’s worth anything reads just what he likes, as the mood takes him, and with extravagant enthusiasm.

What's the use trying to read Shakespeare, especially in one of those little paper editions whose pages get ruffled, or stuck together with sea-water?

There was no need to hurry that future—yet the length of his own youth pressed upon him. Whatever he was to do next he wanted to begin now. But how to begin and on what?

We are a nation of laws with respect and recognition of the rule of law. We are not an imperialist government with a monarch abiding by the rule of one man.

I'm not a big guy for research. You've got to take a risk.

I've always loved spaces and dwellings in general.

Apparently, I'm supposed to be more angry about what Mitt Romney does with his money than what Barack Obama does with mine.

The best thing that you can do to this world is to be joyous. Being joyful, is the greatest offering you can make to the world.

In great deeds something abides.

The future belongs to you, but it can only belong to you if you participate and take charge

We're all like children. We may think we grow up, but to me, being grown up is death, stopping thinking, trying to find out things, going on learning.

Remembering is a great invention of the mind.