We all begin life as parasites within the mother, and writers begin their existence imitatively, within the body of letters.

We are most alive when we're in love.

Life is a nacho. It can be yummy-crunchy or squishy-yucky. It just depends on how long it takes for you to start eating it.

Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life.

You cannot help but learn more as take the world into your hands. Take it up reverently, for it is and old piece of clay, with millions of thumbprints on it.

A leader is one who, out of madness or goodness, volunteers to take upon himself the woe of the people. There are few men so foolish, hence the erratic quality of leadership in the world.

Most of American life consists of driving somewhere and then returning home, wondering why the hell you went.

The scissors cut the long-grown hair; The razor scrapes the remnant fuzz. Small-jawed, weak-chinned, big-eyed, I stare At the forgotten boy I was.

It is easy to love people in memory; the hard thing is to love them when they are there in front of you.

Inspiration arrives as a packet of material to be delivered.

So much love, too much love, it is our madness, it is rotting us out, exploding us like dandelion polls.

One who enjoys finding errors will then start creating errors to find.

I have tried to live very quietly, so I could be happy.

In a revolution one wins or dies, if it is a real one

For me there's a need for balance - fulfilling the sensitive side, letting my guard down, holding back the warrior in me. And I have to be vulnerable which is very hard for me to do.

Don't keep telling your parents they don't understand you. Believe me it's much worse when they do. There's just a chance, you know - they really might.

I love looking after animals. I find it very enjoyable.

Despite the theories traditionally taught in high-school social studies, the truth is: the more primitive the society, the more leisured its way of life.

There is no true believing or trusting to the report of the gospel, but what is the effect of the working of a divine power on the soul for that end.

Far from his illness The wolves ran on through the evergreen forests, The peasant river was untempted by the fashionable quays; By mourning tongues The death of the poet was kept from his poems.