Food for her is not food, it is terror, dignity, gratitude, vengeance, joyfulness, humiliation, religion, history, and, of course, love. As if the fruit she always offered us were picked from the destroyed brances of out family tree.

We all want progress, but if you're on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive.

C.S. Lewis

Why not go out on a limb? Isn't that where the fruit is?

Frank Scully

Man is not a Yahoo, but he is rather like a Yahoo and needs to be reminded of it from time to time.

George Orwell

Immaturity is the incapacity to use one's intelligence without the guidance of another.

Immanuel Kant

The greater the artist, the greater the doubt. Perfect confidence is granted to the less talented as a consolation prize.

Robert Hughes

Every man's work, pursued steadily, tends to become an end in itself, and so to bridge over the loveless chasms of his life.

George Eliot

They used to but not any more. You kind of get used to it - you accept it is part of your job - if you're famous and you want this life, you have got to accept this part of it as well.

Charlotte Church

All the miseries and evils which men suffer from vice, crime, ambition, injustice, oppression, slavery and war, proceed from their despising or neglecting the precepts contained in the Bible.

Noah Webster

The best relationships in our lives are the best not because they have been the happiest ones, they are that way because they have stayed strong through the most tormentful of storms.

Pandora Poikilos

Put a bridle on thy tongue set a guard before thy lips, lest the words of thine own mouth destroy thy peace... on much speaking cometh repentance, but in silence is safety.

William Drummond

You have riches and freedom here but I feel no sense of faith or direction. You have so many computers, why don't you use them in the search for love?

Lech Walesa

Progress is the life-style of man. The general life of the human race is called Progress, and so is its collective march. Progress advances, it makes the great human and earthly journey towards what is heavenly and divine; it has its pauses, when it rallies the stragglers, its stopping places when it meditates, contemplating some new and splendid promised land that has suddenly appeared on its horizon. It has its nights of slumber; and it is one of the poignant anxieties of the thinker to see the human spirit lost in shadow, and to grope in the darkness without being able to awake sleeping progress.

Victor Hugo