You, of course, are a rose-- But were always a rose.
I glared at him. "I may not die now. . . but I'm going to die sometime. Every minute of the day, I get closer. And I'm going to get old.
My life was an unending, unchanging midnight. It must, by necessity, always be midnight for me. So how was it possible that the sun was rising now, in the middle of my midnight?
I, the soul called Wanderer, love you, human Ian. And that will never change, no matter what I might become.
Books have been thought of as windows to another world of imagination
It's not the face, but the expressions on it. It's not the voice, but what you say. It's not how you look in that body, but the thing you do with it. You are beautiful.
You are. . . Well, not exactly the love of my life, because I expect to love you for much longer than that. The love of my existence. " -Bella
Hilda Reiss was the head of the Everyday Art Gallery. Hilda Reiss came from Germany, had trained at the original Bauhaus in Germany, and her training inspired her to think of anything that she liked as art.
People want to psychoanalyze me, but the fact is, I'm not that complicated. I'm pretty straightforward. And I'm not all that self-reflective, because I tend to be a doer.
Coincidences, in general, are great stumbling blocks in the way of that class of thinkers who have been educated to know nothing of the theory of probabilities- that theory to which the most glorious objects of human research are indebted for the most glorious of illustration.
I think people are going to keep asking me about Macaulay. Some things change and some things don't.