What knows he of love who has not been obliged to despise just what he loved

That which does not kill us makes us stronger.

There is always madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

Sometimes people don't want to hear the truth because they don't want their illusions destroyed.

There are two different types of people in the world, those who want to know, and those who want to believe.

I was in darkness, but I took three steps and found myself in paradise. The first step was a good thought, the second, a good word; and the third, a good deed.

There will always be rocks in the road ahead of us. They will be stumbling blocks or stepping stones; it all depends on how you use them.

You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.

I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you.

Enjoy life. This is not a dress rehearsal.

The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything.

We don't always get what we want but often something better happens and we become the person we always wanted to be.

The books. Are unhappy.

Nonsense, n. The objections that are urged against this excellent dictionary.

The things that I loved were very frail. Very fragile. I didn't know that. I thought they were indestructible. They weren't.

Moore's Law of Mad Science: Every eighteen months, the minimum IQ necessary to destroy the world drops by one point.

There's more magic in a baby's first giggle than in any firestorm a wizard can conjure up, and don't let anyone tell you any different.

When you are required to exhibit strength, it comes.

I am not antiwhite, because I understand that white people, like black ones, are victims of a racist society. They are products of their time and place.

With books at least, the best experiences are not when you find what you were looking for, but when something quite different finds you, takes you by surprise, shifts your tastes to new territory.

Everywhere bees go racing with the hours, / For every bee becomes a drunken lover, / Standing upon his head to sup the flowers.