Political language. . . is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.

That's what a man wants in a wife, mostly; he wants to make sure one fool tells him he's wise.

George Eliot

You're water. We're the millstone.You're wind. We're dust blown up into shapes.You're spirit. We're the opening and closing of our hands. You're the clarity.We're the language that tries to say it.You're joy. We're all the different kinds of laughing.

Rumi

He used statistics as a drunken man uses lampposts; for support rather than illumination.

Andrew Lang

When I was younger, the pressure was just being cool. I never thought of myself as a cool guy. I always thought of myself as more of the goofy guy.

Paul Walker

It is the quality of our work which will please God and not the quantity.

Mahatma Gandhi

If you desire the path of sincerity, develop a love for obscurity. Flee from the clatter and clinks of fame. Be like the roots of a tree; it keeps the tree upright and gives it life, but it itself is hidden underneath the earth and eyes cannot see it.

Abdullah ibn al-Mubarak

Only the person of worth can recognize the worth in others.

Thomas Carlyle

A judge who cannot punish, in the end associates themselves with the criminal.

Johann von Goethe

Value your freedom or you will lose it, teaches history. 'Don't bother us with politics', respond those who don't want to learn.

Richard Stallman

The aim of all commentary on art now should be to make works of art -- and, by analogy, our own experience -- more, rather than less, real to us. The function of criticism should be to show how it is what it is, even that it is what it is, rather than to show what it means.

Susan Sontag

You deserve someone better than me. Someone young and idealisticsomeone who can experience things for the first time along with you. I'm not always kind, and I have more faults than I'd care to name. All I can promise is that I'll want you until my last breath.

Lisa Kleypas

Chance does not speak essentially through words nor can it be seen in their convolution. It is the eruption of language, its sudden appearance. It's not a night twinkle with stars, an illuminated sleep, nor a drowsy vigil. It is the very edge of consciousness.

Michel Foucault