Truth is no rounder than a horse's eye.

He moved like a dancer, which is not surprising; a horse is a beautiful animal, but it is perhaps most remarkable because it moves as if it always hears music.

Words were all he knew; they possessed and overwhelmed him, as if they were a thousand white cats with whom he shared a one-room apartment.

Well-timed silence is the most commanding expression.

One is attracted to beauty. Beauty is the coordination of things, in such a way, that it is what attracts you. It's almost self-defining.

The shelf was filled with books that were hard to read, that could devastate and remake one's soul, and that, when they were finished, had a kick like a mule.

They gave themselves up to the stars the way swimmers can surrender to the waves, and the stars took them without resistance.

And if you were a spirit, and time did not bind you, and patience and love were all you knew, then there you would wait for someone to return, and the story to unfold.

If it weren't for music, I would think that love is mortal.

Marxists are people whose insides are torn up day after day because they want to rule the world and no one will even publish their letter to the editor.

And how does God speak to you?" "In the language of everything that is beautiful.

Every day I add to the list of things I refuse to discuss. The wiser the man, the longer the list.

Not being aware of all you have to do is much like having a credit card for which you don't know the balance or the limit - it's a lot easier to be irresponsible.

I don’t just want to do the right thing. I want to WANT to do the right thing.

Time is the dressing room for eternity.

I fundamentally believe that people have a genuine desire to be positively engaged in the world around them.

Oh for a seat in some poetic nook, Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook!

The high cost of living is a minor problem when compared to the cost of high living.

I'm the kind of person that wants to analyze and I think having a background in, strangely enough, in like literature and languages, I'm always analyzing things.

My masculinity isn't hinged on whether or not I knit.

I can't remember. . . . My character was sort of unconscious for it.