When it draws near to witching time of night.

Friendship! Mysterious cement of the soul, Sweet'ner of life, and solder of society.

The good he scorn'd Stalk'd off reluctant, like an ill-us'd ghost, Not to return; or if it did, its visits Like those of angels, short, and far between.

How blunt are all the arrows of thy quiver in comparison with those of guilt.

Affectation is certain deformity; by forming themselves on fantastic models, the young begin with being ridiculous, and often end in being vicious.

The grave, dread thing! Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled, Shakes off her wonted firmness.

The tap'ring pyramid, the Egyptian's pride, And wonder of the world, whose spiky top Has wounded the thick cloud.

Our time is fixed, and all our days are number'd; How long, how short, we know not:—this we know, Duty requires we calmly wait the summons, Nor dare to stir till Heaven shall give permission.

How shocking must thy summons be, O death, to him that is at ease in his possessions! who, counting on long years of pleasure here, is quite unfurnished for the world to come.

Beauty! thou pretty plaything! dear deceit, That steals so softly o'er the stripling's heart, And gives it a new pulse unknown before!

Whistling aloud to bear his courage up.

The history of science is the saga of nature defying common sense.

I am what I am today because of the choices I made yesterday,

Not bragging by any means, but I could have done a lot of other stuff as far as working in films go and working in television... I had chances to do that stuff, but I like baseball, I really do.

To remember the other world in this world is to live in your true inheritance.

All the senses awaken and fall into harmony in poetic reverie. Poetic reverie listens to this polyphony of the senses, and the poetic consciousness must record it.

Among mathematicians, even in those days, the reputation of being a good Glass Bead Game player meant a great deal; it was equivalent to being a very good mathematician.

From the time I became an actor my whole approach was to try to do as many different things as possible. It never occurred to me that I might be typecast.

I'm not a bit changed - not really. I'm only just pruned down and branched out. The real me - back here - is just the same.

In love, a verse of Mimnermus has more power than one of Homer.

Something flickers across his bloodshot eyes. Pain.