What though the sea be calm? trust to the shore, Ships have been drown'd, where late they danc'd before.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun.

That age is best which is the first When youth and blood are warmer.

Then be not coy, but use your time; And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry.

But ne'er the rose without the thorn.

Bid me despair, and I'll despair,Under that cypress tree;Or bid me die, and I will dareE'en Death, to die for thee.

Bid me to love, and I will give a loving heart to thee.

Conquer we shall, but, we must first contend! It's not the fight that crowns us, but the end.

He loves his bonds who, when the first are broke, Submits his neck into a second yoke.

Fain would I kiss my Julia's dainty leg, Which is as white and hairless as an egg.

Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a flying: And this same flower that smiles to day, Tomorrow will be dying.

Defining marriage is a power that should be left to the states. Moreover, no state should be forced to recognize a marriage that is not within its own laws, Constitution, and legal precedents.

The most terrifying things in the universe came from human minds.

At the bottom of every leaf-stem is a cradle, and in it is an infant germ; the winds will rock it, the birds will sing to it all summer long, but the next season it will unfold and go alone.

The biggest thing for women to keep in mind is you can't ever let someone define beauty for you. Look in the mirror and say that this is my definition of perfection.

As far as outdoor work is concerned, a studio is only a garage; a place in which to store pictures and repair them, never a place in which to paint them.

One person can't hold anything, but two can have the world.

In New York City, when they develop something, they never use the old buildings. It's so wasteful. Why not use what's there?

Your Majesty, I am like you. I do no work. I do nothing, but I am indispensable.

Every wind is fare when we are flying from misfortune.

I love to dwell on the thought that the artist is next in divinity to the saint. He, like the saint, performs miracles.