You have everything but one thing: madness. A man needs a little madness or else - he never dares cut the rope and be free.

I felt once more how simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea. Nothing else.

You can knock on a deaf man's door forever.

If a woman sleeps alone it puts a shame on all men. God has a very big heart, but there is one sin He will not forgive. If a woman calls a man to her bed and he will not go.

The human soul is heavy, clumsy, held in the mud of the flesh. Its perceptions are still coarse and brutish. It can divine nothing clearly, nothing with certainty.

How could I, who loved life so intensely, have let myself be entangled for so long in that balderdash of books and paper blackened with ink!

Every man has his folly, but the greatest folly of all, in my view, is not to have one.

Tell me what you do with the food you eat, and I’ll tell you who you are. Some turn their food into fat and manure, some into work and good humor, and others, I’m told, into God.” - Zorba.

Luck is blind, they say. It can’t see where it’s going and keeps running into people…and the people it knocks into we call lucky! Well, to hell with luck if it's like that, I say!

When you've made up your mind, no use lagging behind, go ahead and no relenting, Let your youth have free reign, it won't come again, so be bold and no repenting.

Leave nothing for death but a burned-out castle

God, he was so beautiful. It was the tragic kind of beauty too, the kind you knew was doomed from the start. A face that launched a thousand ships and dug a million graves.

May you find a new grace to live your dreams in coming year.

Is there a magical time when children become parents to their parents?

Saddam Hussein is about to face trial and George Bush wants to execute him. Not because of the war crimes, but because Saddam is beating him in the polls.

Wind in my hair, I feel part of everywhere Underneath my being is a road that disappeared Late at night I hear the trees, they're singing with the dead Overhead.

Life is a thread that someone entangled.

Of this blest man, let his just praise be given, Heaven was in him, before he was in Heaven.

Expect nothing. Today: that is your life.

People love to hear the brag of the local boy, because they want him to be great, but the foreigner must deny that he has any outstanding virtue - this is what will endear him to the locals.

To face one who is extraordinary,I cant allow myself to be ordinary