The human body is a peculiar device, pat it on the back and the head swells.

It's not that I don't want to become famous or that I'm obsessed by my work as an actress, but it's all about not limiting myself, such as putting myself in a little jail that I can escape from.

Sarah Polley

By words one transmits thoughts to another, by means of art, one transmits feelings.

Leo Tolstoy

Women today are dealing with both their independence and also the fact that their lives are built around finding and satisfying the romantic models we grew up with.

Jane Campion

I just want to work forever. I absolutely love what I'm doing. I learn all the time from all these amazing artists.

Juno Temple

A life of ease is a difficult pursuit.

William Cowper

I'd probably be famous now if I wasn't such a good waitress.

Jane Siberry

This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall Lord of himself, though not of lands, And leaving nothing, yet hath all.

Lord Byron

The intolerable compliment of suffering

C.S. Lewis

Jazz is the art of skipping obvious convention while still following it.

Eric Parslow

My life changed the day I moved beyond just wishing for things and I started earning them. That is the day I learned that we don't get what we wish for, we get what we work for.

Steve Maraboli

I saw a ship of material build (Her standards set, her brave apparel on)Directed as by madness mereAgainst a solid iceberg steer,Nor budge it, though the infactuate ship went down.The impact made huge ice-cubes fallSullen in tons that crashed the deck;But that one avalanche was all--No other movement save the foundering wreck.Along the spurs of ridges pale,Not any slenderest shaft and frail,A prism over glass-green gorges lone,Toppled; or lace or traceries fine,Nor pendant drops in grot or mineWere jarred, when the stunned ship went down.Nor sole the gulls in cloud that wheeledCircling one snow-flanked peak afar,But nearer fowl the floes that skimmedAnd crystal beaches, felt no jar.No thrill transmitted stirred the lockOf jack-straw neddle-ice at base;Towers indermined by waves--the blockAtilt impending-- kept their place.Seals, dozing sleek on sliddery ledgesSlipt never, when by loftier edgesThrough the inertia overthrown,The impetuous ship in bafflement went down.Hard Berg (methought), so cold, so vast,With mortal damps self-overcast;Exhaling still thy dankish breath--Adrift dissolving, bound for death;Though lumpish thou, a lumbering one--A lumbering lubbard loitering slow,Impingers rue thee ad go slowSounding thy precipice below,Nor stir the slimy slug that sprawlsAlong thy dead indifference of walls.

Herman Melville, The Berg (A Dre

If your going to do something tonight that you'll be sorry for in the morning, sleep late.

Henny Youngman