You keep to your own ways and leave mine to me.

Love is the crowning grace of humanity.

Five enemies of peace inhabit with us - avarice, ambition, envy, anger, and pride; if these were to be banished, we should infallibly enjoy perpetual peace.

Death is a sleep that ends our dreaming. Oh, that we may be allowed to wake before death wakes us.

Perhaps out there, somewhere, someone is sighing for your absence; and with this thought, my soul begins to breathe.

Man has not a greater enemy than himself.

It is better to will the good than to know the truth.

Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together.

All pleasure in the world is a passing dream.

Virtue is health, vice is sickness.

For though I am a body of this earth, my firm desire is born from the stars.

This new world was a vicious, sleek world made of street lights and tight jeans, sharp smiles and fast cars. This was a city, edited. A city, pared down to its bare minimums, beautiful and abusive.

It's about making a choice to make your marriage a priority, to, kind of, put that at the top of the page, as your mission statement or something.

She looked at him for an age, and he read nothing short of love on her face. It warmed him to the core he'd thought dead, and scared the crap out of him.

Grandmam came back from that distance in time that separates grandmothers from their grandchildren and made herself a mother to me.

I'm sorry about what happened, ' Love said. Death squeezed his hand. 'Play as yourself. Not as me. Trust me one that.

Those that hate goodness are sometimes nearer than those that know nothing at all about it and think they have it.

When you're onstage and you know you're bombing, that's very, very scary. Because you know you gotta keep going - you're bombing, but you can't stop.

Beckham in Paris will certainly be good for shopping. I love this player but he is not the footballer he was. And if he comes to Paris now it will be to do something other than football.

Henry Colbert, the miller, always breakfasted with his wife--beyond that he appeared irregularly at the family table.

Your cause of sorrow must not be measured by his worth, for then it hath no end.