What's it like here?There's a biscuit factory next door. We get the broken ones.

Life is for memories, full of fun, with friends, families and joyful sun.

Wherever there is light, one can photograph.

I make music for the hips, not the head.

There is nothing so fleeting as the memory of benefits received.

Lying, like license, has its degrees.

We are all of us more or less active physiognomists.

When Alexander had subdued the world, and wept that none were left to dispute his arms, his tears were an involuntary tribute to a monarchy that he knew not, man's empire over himself.

We have no filter for music, but we feel it when what's being spoken and sung is telling a story and evidencing a character.

How people themselves perceive what they are doing is not a question that interests me.

Fear is a fire to temper courage and resolve. Use it so.