A woman doesn't just love a man. She loves who he is. And, who he is is dependent on what he needs.

As one acts and conducts himself, so does he become. The doer of good becomes good. The doer of evil becomes evil. One becomes virtuous by virtuous action, bad by bad action.

Veda Upanishads

Love stories are written in millimeters and milliseconds with a fast, dull pencil whose marks you can barely see, they are written in miles and eons with a chisel on the side of a mountiantop

Gabrielle Zevin

An autobiography is a book a person writes about his own life and it is usually full of all sorts of boring details.

Roald Dahl

What's right about America is that although we have a mess of problems, we have great capacity - intellect and resources - to do some thing about them.

Henry Ford

Sir, money, money, the most charming of all things; money, which will say more in one moment than the most elegant lover can in years. Perhaps you will say a man is not young; I answer he is rich. He is not genteel, handsome, witty, brave, good-humored, but he is rich, rich, rich, rich, rich --that one word contradicts everything you can say against him.

Henry Fielding

We Asians are the original Conservatives because for thousands of years we have believed in free enterprise you have just stolen our philosophy.

Jayvantsinnji Gohel

I was up watching Meet Joe Black at four AM. I was hoping Brad Pitt would die, and he was still alive at seven forty in the morning! I actually felt sorry for once, for critics.

Rose McGowan

Writing is a dreadful labor, yet not so dreadful as Idleness.

Thomas Carlyle

It is hard work and great art to make life not so serious.

John Irving

War is the ultimate tool of politics.

R. Buckminster Fuller

Fat Charlie had had no real liking for the police, but until now, he had still managed to cling to a fundamental trust in the natural order of things, a conviction that there was some kind of power--a Victorian might have thought of it as Providence--that ensured that the guilty would be punished while the innocent would be set free. This faith had collapsed in the face of recent events and had been replaced by the suspicion that he would spend the rest of his life pleading his innocence to a variety of implacable judges and tormenters, many of whom would look like Daisy, and that he would in all probability wake up in cell six the next morning to find that he had been transformed into an enormous cockroach. He had definitely been transported to the kind of maleficent universe that transformed people into cockroaches.

Neil Gaiman

The cello is like a beautiful woman who has not grown older, but younger with time, more slender, more supple, more graceful.

Pau (Pablo) Casals