We say of the oak, How grand of girth! Of the willow we say, How slender! And yet to the soft grass clothing the earth How slight is the praise we render.

January is here, with eyes that keenly glow, A frost-mailed warrior striding a shadowy steed of snow.

At some glad moment was it nature's choice to dower a scrap of sunset with a voice?

But a lady forced is never a lady won

If I walked in there right now, you would beg me to make you scream.""Oh, please, " she said sarcastically."We wouldn't make it to a bed before I would be deep inside you.

To create one's world in any of the arts takes courage.

One who is by nature daring and is suffering from poverty will not long be law-abiding. Indeed, any men, save those that are truly good, if their sufferings are very great, will be likely to rebel.

I don't always understand my characters. I write to understand them better.

I really learned to sing in church, I think, really with emotion.

The bridge between reality and a dream is work.

Modesty is silent when it would be improper to speak; the humble, without being called upon, never recollects to say anything of himself.

There ought not to be anything in the whole universe that man can't poke his nose into-that's the way we're built and I assume that there's some reason for that.

If you're 30, 40 years old, you're not getting listened to by minors. Like, Jay Z has some of the sickest lyrics ever, but I would never buy his CD, just because of my age and because of his age.