…growing a little tiresome on account of some mysterious internal discomfort that the local practitioner diagnosed as imagination

Figures are the most shocking things in the world. The prettiest little squiggles of black looked at in the right light and yet consider the blow they can give you upon the heart.

...he was not so much a human as a civil war.

He buried his nose in his pillow and went to sleep—to dream of anything rather than getting on in the world, as a sensible young man in his position ought to have done.

How shall polluted mortals dare To sing Thy glory or Thy grace Beneath Thy feet we lie afar And see but shadows of Thy face.

I’m sorry I can’t do more. But happy birthday, Sadie.” He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.

It's through discipline and tremendous disappointment and failure that you arrive at what it is you must paint.

I am tired before the concert, not afterward.

As someone fairly committed to the death of our solar system and ultimately the entropy of the universe, I think the question of what we should worry about is irrelevant in the end.

I believe welfare makes you lazy and unproductive.

We should chiefly depend not upon that department of the soul which is most superficial and fallible (our reason), but upon that department that is deep and sure, which is instinct.

Barack Obama was better as a campaigner than as a - as a president sometimes in this same position. It is easier when you have a foil.

The fear of death is for all of us everywhere, but for the great intelligence of the opium eater it is beautifully narrowed into the crux of drugs.

I just don't believe you're capable of being an actor unless you have a desire to experience your emotions in a public way.