Except for politics, no business is scrutinized more exhaustively than journalism.

Why do they call it rush hour when nothing moves?

Robin Williams

The vanity of loving fine clothes and new fashion, and placing value on ourselves by them is one of the most childish pieces of folly.

Sir Matthew Hale

Complete possession is proved only by giving. All you are unable to give possesses you.

Andre Gide

I desire so to conduct the affairs of this administration that if at the end... I have lost every other friend on earth, I shall at least have one friend left, and that friend shall be down inside of me.

Abraham Lincoln

Living in Cambridge, with nature and everything, it's so clean.

Syd Barrett

One can pay back the loan of gold, but one lies forever in debt to those who are kind.

Proverb

Happiness and moral duty are inseparably connected.

George Washington

People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they seldom use.

Soren Kierkegaard

The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other downThe swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While secret laughter titter'd round the placeThe bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love,The matrons glance that would those looks reproveThese were thy charms, sweet village sports like these,With sweet succession, taught e'en toil to pleaseThese were thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,These were thy charms but all these charms are fled.

Oliver Goldsmith

No language is justly studied merely as an aid to other purposes. It will in fact better serve other purposes, philological or historical, when it is studied for love, for itself.

J. R. R. Tolkien

When we were in the design studio I always was pretending like I was in a closet asking my friend before I step out into the world what do I look like? And everybody wants that honest friend before they go and go to dinner or go to an event.

Nicole Richie

When I consider how my light is spentE're half my days, in this dark world and wide,And that one Talent which is death to hide,Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bentTo serve therewith my Maker, and presentMy true account, least he returning chide,Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd,I fondly ask; But patience to preventThat murmur, soon replies, God doth not needEither man's work or his own gifts, who bestBear his milde yoak, they serve him best, his StateIs Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speedAnd post o're Land and Ocean without rest:They also serve who only stand and waite.

John Milton, On His Blindness