Hard work is simply the refuge of people who have nothing whatever to do.

It's become impossible to deny he means something to me.

Stephanie Perkins

Welcome evermore to gods and men is the self-helping man. For him all doors are flung wide: him all tongues greet, all honors crown, all eyes follow with desire. Our love goes out to him and embraces him, because he did not need it. We solicitously and apologetically caress and celebrate him, because he held on his way and scorned our disapprobation. The gods loved him because men hated him.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

There is no achievement without goals.

Robert J. Mckain

I do like to shock and surprise people. When it's all in good fun, of course.

Ruth Warrick

Now ... if you trust in yourself ... and believe in your dreams ... and follow your star ... you'll still get beaten by people who spent time working hard and learning things and weren't so lazy. Goodbye.

Terry Pratchett

Without nothing, everything would be nothing.

Dejan Stojanovic

I don't think radio is selling records like they used to. They'd hawk the song and hawk the artist and you'd get so excited, you'd stop your car and go into the nearest record store.

Herb Alpert

I like you but you mightn't feel the same way about me, and I wouldn't blame you. To save us both from any awkward moments I've figured out an easy way to do this. Nod if you're even slightly interested in getting to know me. Write a ten page explanation if you're not.

Bill Condon

Many people treat their bodies as if they were rented from Hertz-something they are using to get around in but nothing they genuinely care about understanding.

Chungliang Al Huang

It is the perennial youthfulness of mathematics itself which marks it off with a disconcerting immortality from the other sciences.

E. T. Bell

You can't walk alone. Many have given the illusion, but none have really walked alone. Man is not made that way. Each man is bedded in his people, their history, their culture, and their values.

Peter Abrahams

How the old mountains drip with sunset,And the brake of dun!How the hemlocks are tipped in tinselBy the wizard sun!How the old steeples hand the scarlet,Till the ball is full, --Have I the lip of the flamingoThat I dare to tell?Then, how the fire ebbs like billows,Touching all the grassWith a departing, sapphire feature,As if a duchess pass!How a small dusk crawls on the villageTill the houses blot;And the odd flambeaux no men carryGlimmer on the spot!Now it is night in nest and kennel,And where was the wood,Just a dome of abyss is noddingInto solitude! --These are the visions baffled Guido;Titian never told;Domenichino dropped the pencil,Powerless to unfold.

Emily Dickinson, THE COMING OF N