Now from the broken tower, what solemn bell still tolls, Mourning what piteous death? Answer, O saddened souls! Who mourn the death of beauty and the death of grace.

Feminist art is not some tiny creek running off the great river of real art. It is not some crack in an otherwise flawless stone. It is, quite spectacularly I think, art which is not based on the subjugation of one half of the species. It is art which will take the great human themes --love, death, heroism, suffering, history itself --and render them fully human. It may also, though perhaps our imaginations are so mutilated now that we are incapable even of the ambition, introduce a new theme, one as great and as rich as those others --should we call it joy?

Andrea Dworkin

The problems of the world cannot possibly be solved by skeptics or cynics whose horizons are limited by the obvious realities. We need men who can dream of things that never were.

John F. Kennedy

If you want to read about love and marriage, you've got to buy two separate books.

Alan King

We can rest contentedly in our sins and in our stupidities, and anyone who has watched gluttons shoveling down the most exquisite foods as if they did not know what they were eating will admit that we can ignore even pleasure. But pain insists upon being

C.S. Lewis

Sweat plus sacrifice equals success.

Charlie Finley

The power of a man's virtue should not be measured by his special efforts, but by his ordinary doing

Blaise Pascal

Those who are lighthearted remind me of death.

Leo Tolstoy

The television, that insidious beast, that Medusa which freezes a billion people to stone every night, staring fixedly, that Siren which called and sang and promised so much and gave, after all, so little.

Ray Bradbury

I save my dreams and hopes for my kids. When I'm making a wish under a bridge or tunnel, it's always for them.

Alison Sweeney

All people are insane, he said. They will do anything at any time, and God help anybody who looks for reasons.

Kurt Vonnegut

Is no one inspired by our present picture of the universe? Our poets do not write about it; our artists do not try to portray this remarkable thing. The value of science remains unsung by singers: you are reduced to hearing not a song or poem, but an evening lecture about it. This is not yet a scientific age.

Richard Feynman

Când ne deschidemtu mie ?i eu ?ie,când ne scufund?mtu în mine ?i eu în tine,când ne pierdemtu în mine ?i eu în tine,Abia atuncieu sunt eu?i tu e?ti tu.

Bernhard Schlink