All limits are self imposed.

For the sake of our health, our children and grandchildren and even our economic well-being, we must make protecting the planet our top priority.

David Suzuki

Now, very few are men of science in any very serious sense; they're men of technique.

Robertson Davies

What we have at present is a system of loss socialism. Whatever goes wrong is shouldered by the general public and anything that works is privatised. Worshippers of market freedom have suspended the most important economic principle: Risk and liability go hand in hand.

Sigmar Gabriel

Fear not, the people may be deluded for a moment, but cannot be corrupted.

Andrew Jackson

Suffering occurs when we want other people to love us in the way we imagine we want to be loved, and not in the way that love should manifest itself--free and untrammeled, guiding us with its force and driving us on.

Paulo Coelho

All failure is failure to adapt, all success is successful adaptation.

Max McKeown

Intervention only works when the people concerned seem to be keen for peace.

Nelson Mandela

The problem to me is violence. It's not cool to kill somebody or hurt people.

Mark Ruffalo

Her cheeks were flushed. She caught hold of the Savage's arm and pressed it, limp, against her side. He looked down at her for a moment, pale, pained, desiring, and ashamed of his desire. He was not worthy, not... Their eyes for a moment met. What treasures hers promised! A queen's ransom of temperament. Hastily he looked away, disengaged his imprisoned arm. He was obscurely terrified lest she should cease to be something he could feel himself unworthy of.

Aldous Huxley

The principle we call self-love never seeks anything external for the sake of the thing, but only as a means of happiness or good: particular affections rest in the external things themselves.

Joseph Butler

I remember the time I was kidnapped and they sent back a piece of my finger to my father. He said he wanted more proof

Rodney Dangerfield

Other letters simply relate the small events that punctuate the passage of time: roses picked at dusk, the laziness of a rainy Sunday, a child crying himself to sleep. Capturing the moment, these small slices of life, these small gusts of happiness, move me more deeply than all the rest. A couple of lines or eight pages, a Middle Eastern stamp or a suburban postmark . . . I hoard all these letters like treasure. One day I hope to fasten them end to end in a half-mile streamer, to float in the wind like a banner raised to the glory of friendship. It will keep the vultures at bay.

Jean-Dominique Bauby