To not be self-conscious of your appearance is huge, and something that I desperately hope to carry into film at some point in my useless life - to not be thinking, 'My ear looks weird from this angle, why is the camera over there?'

There is no fate which cannot be surmounted by scorn.

Albert Camus

It is true that too much belief can be bad for your health.

Terry Eagleton

In choosing a mate, don't pick the tallest and most handsome or the most beautiful. Don't choose one just because that person raises your physical passions. Look for the person who is good from within, the one with substance and worth.

Helen Quist Milligan

He was a friend to man, and lived in a house by the side of the road. HOMER There are hermit souls that live withdrawnIn the peace of their self-content;There are souls, like stars, that dwell apart,In a fellowless firmament;There are pioneer souls that blaze their pathsWhere highways never ran;But let me live by the side of the roadAnd be a friend to man. Let me live in a house by the side of the road,Where the race of men go byThe men who are good and the men who are bad,As good and as bad as I. I would not sit in the scorners seat,Or hurl the cynics ban;Let me live in a house by the side of the roadAnd be a friend to man. I see from my house by the side of the road,By the side of the highway of life,The men who press with the ardor of hope,The men who are faint with the strife. But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tearsBoth parts of an infinite plan;Let me live in my house by the side of the roadAnd be a friend to man. I know there are brook-gladdened meadows aheadAnd mountains of wearisome height;That the road passes on through the long afternoonAnd stretches away to the night. But still I rejoice when the travellers rejoice,And weep with the strangers that moan. Nor live in my house by the side of the roadLike a man who dwells alone. Let me live in my house by the side of the roadWhere the race of men go byThey are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,Wise, foolish so am I. Then why should I sit in the scorners seatOr hurl the cynics ban?Let me live in my house by the side of the roadAnd be a friend to man.

Sam Walter Foss

You think of those kids out there. I say kids. I have seen them. They are the greatest. You see these bums, you know, blowing up the campuses. Listen, the boys that are on the college campuses today are the luckiest people in the world, going to the greatest universities, and here they are burning up the books, I mean storming around about this issueI mean you name itget rid of the war; there will be another one. Out there weve got kids who are just doing their duty. I have seen them. They stand tall, and they are proud. I am sure they are scared. I was when I was there. But when it really comes down to it, they stand up and, boy, you have to talk up to those men. And they are going to do fine; weve got to stand back of them.

Richard Milhous Nixon

Freedom. And Justice. If you have those two, it covers everything. You must stick to those principles and have the courage of your convictions.

Ian Smith

A very intimate sense of the expressiveness of outward things, which ponders, listens, penetrates, where the earlier, less developed consciousness passed lightly by, is an important element in the general temper of our modern poetry.

Walter Pater

My roommate got a pet elephant. Then it got lost. It's in the apartment somewhere.

Steven Wright

The truth doesn't always set you free; people prefer to believe prettier, neatley wrapped lies

Jodi Picoult

Once in a while a new government initiates a program to put power to better use, but its success or failure never really proves anything. In science, experiments are designed, checked, altered, repeated-- but not in politics... We have no real cumulative knowledge. History tells us nothing. That's the tragedy of a political reformer.

B.F. Skinner

Passando fra gli insorti che si scostavano con religioso rispetto, [pap? Mabeuf] continuò dritto verso Enjolras che indietreggiava impietrito, gli strappò la bandiera, e senza che nessuno osasse trattenerlo né aiutarlo, quel vecchio ottuagenario col capo vacillante, ma col piede fermo, salì lentamente la scala di pietre costruita nella barricata. Lo spettacolo era così serio che tutto all'intorno dissero: «Giù il cappello!». A ogni gradino che saliva diventava sempre più terribile: i suoi capelli canuti, il volto decrepito, l'ampia fronte calma e rugosa, gli occhi incavati, la bocca attonita e semiaperta, il vecchio braccio che sosteneva la bandiera rossa, uscivano dall'ombra e ingigantivano nel sanguinoso chiarore della torcia, e sembrava di vedere lo spettro del 1793 sorgere dalla terra inalberando la bandiera del terrore.Quando fu all'ultimo gradino, quando quel fantasma tremante e terribile, ritto su quel mucchio di rovine dinanzi a milleduecento fucili invisibili, si drizzò in faccia alla morte come se fosse più forte di essa, tutta la barricata assunse nelle tenebre un aspetto colossale e soprannaturale. Vi fu uno di quegli istanti di silenzio che accompagnano i prodigi. In mezzo a quel silenzio il vegliardo sventolò la bandiera rossa e gridò:«Viva la Rivoluzione! Viva la Repubblica! Fratellanza! Uguaglianza! E morte!».

Victor Hugo

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Neem Karoli Baba