We first make our habits, then our habits make us.

Jealousy is the jaundice of the soul.

Self-defense is Nature's eldest law.

…So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky

He with a graceful pride, While his rider every hand survey'd, Sprung loose, and flew into an escapade; Not moving forward, yet with every bound Pressing, and seeming still to quit his ground.

When he spoke, what tender words he used! So softly, that like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they fell.

Fool that I was, upon my eagle's wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.

Dead men tell no tales.

Dancing is the poetry of the foot.

The sooner you treat your son as a man, the sooner he will be one.

Fortune befriends the bold.

They (parents) have been doing this (imposing their beliefs about life on you) since you were born. That’s more than enough to establish a habit.

You just know something is amiss, when you look at someone and long for something that is not yours or you cannot have. It's an absence--a loss of a heartbeat.

I can hear the roar of women's silence.

Good leadership is to know when to go, and you only succeed as a good leader if you've transported someone else in and the company gets stronger. Then you've succeeded as leader.

Women, healed and whole, will find undreamed resources in themselves.

Jarrell was not so much a father . . . as an affectionate encyclopedia.

We are all in a post-hypnotic trance induced in early infancy.

I'm not sure there's any number of Facebook likes that can replace a hug.

Read widely of others' experiences, even if it'd be more comfortable to snuggle back in the comforting cotton-wool of blissful ignorance.

While it is emotion that gives an impulse to the landscape painter, it is his style that inspires the critic's praise, and his subject that inveigles the untutored beholder.