We do more talking progress than we do progressing.
For the Sensitive Plant has no bright flower; Radiance and odour are not its dower; It loves, even like Love, its deep heart is full, It desires what it has not, the beautiful.
Life may change, but it may fly not; Hope may vanish, but can die not; Truth be veiled, but still it burneth; Love repulsed, - but it returneth!
When my cats aren't happy, I'm not happy. Not because I care about their mood but because I know they're just sitting there thinking up ways to get even.
The more we study the more we discover our ignorance.
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Love withers under constraints: its very essence is liberty: it is compatible neither with obedience, jealousy, nor fear.
Take my heart with you, baby girl. It follows you. . . . always.
Man will become better when you show him what he is like.
My own apathy is bone chilling.
Sooner or later the young always betrayed the old.