Lucy: Beethoven's birthday is December 16th Shermy! Have you decided what you're going to get me?Shermy: Yes! I'm not going to get you anything!Lucy: What kind of a holiday is it where you don't give girls presents?

And for all he had learned to bandage himself up on the outside, the wound remained just as bad and deep as the moment it had been made - when it became obvious that the one male he wanted above all others was never, ever going to be with him.

J.R. Ward

Has fortune dealt you some bad cards. Then let wisdom make you a good gamester.

Francis Quarles

No One Is Alone by Stephen Sondheim is all about thinking for yourself and being your own person.

Bernadette Peters

It seems our fate to be incorrect (look where we live, for example), and in our incorrectness stand.

Alice Walker

I'll tell you one thing: Don't ever give anybody your best advice, because they're not going to follow it.

Jack Nicholson

I have found it to be true that the older I've become the better my life has become.

Rush Limbaugh

Maybe we've been brainwashed by 130 years of Yankee history, but Southern identity now has more to do with food, accents, manners, music than the Confederate past. It's something that's open to both races, a variety of ethnic groups and people who move here.

John Shelton Reed

Courage and grace are a formidable mixture. The only place to see it is in the bullring.

Marlene Dietrich

Alzheimer's, Parkinson's, brain and spinal cord disorders, diabetes, cancer, at least 58 diseases could potentially be cured through stem cell research, diseases that touch every family in America and in the world.

Rosa DeLauro

It still holds true that man is most uniquely human when he turns obstacles into opportunities.

Eric Hoffer

A purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved.

Kurt Vonnegut

There is no mistaking a real book when one meets it. It is like falling in love, and like that colossal adventure it is an experience of great social import. Even as the tranced swain, the booklover yearns to tell others of his bliss. He writes letters about it, adds it to the postscript of all manner of communications, intrudes it into telephone messages, and insists on his friends writing down the title of the find. Like the simple-hearted betrothed, once certain of his conquest,

Christopher Morley