The master is a slave when he fears those whom he rules.
Still ours the dance, the feast, the glorious Psalm, The mystic lights of emblem, and the Word.
Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore, send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me: I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
Until we are all free, we are none of us free.
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of exiles.
Life's sharpest rapture is surcease of pain.
I am an old-fashioned storyteller. I try to make people laugh and cry. A fiction writer's duty is to entertain. If you can sneak in something profound or symbolic, so much the better.
Lesser, greater, middling, it's all the same. Proportions are negotiated, boundaries blurred. I'm not a pious hermit, I haven't done only good in my life. But if I'm to choose between one evil and another, then I prefer not to choose at all.
I'm a person that works off of music. I let the music dictate the direction.
What is the difference between God and Bono? God doesn't wander down Grafton Street thinking he's Bono.