“Sunsets, my love, are just abstract paintings of your eyes.”

Strength is formed in the womb of adversity.

Don’t let the tamed ones tell you how to live.

My heart has a history of silent catastrophes.

Cold coffee is a liquid morgue.

She’s seven seas of sexiness and five oceans of trouble.

Everybody knows when lightening strikes the earth a woman is formed.

I’ve never met Satan face to face, but I have dated a few of his daughters.

Wave your wand while the magic’s still there.

Someday is a romantic lie, right now is an urgent truth.

She’s got sunshine in her eyes, and it ain’t even daylight.

She’s battling things her smile will never tell you about.

May your cold nights die a warm death.

Love is wealth in the pockets of the heart.

Don’t bring her dead flowers, take her to where the flowers live.

Her light is true love, her darkness a seductive mistress.

Last night (we exchanged so much DNA) we became each other.

It is impossible to make a clear cut between science, religion, and art. The whole is never equal simply to the sum of its various parts.

My goal is to be one with the music. I just dedicate my whole life to this art.

Art is not a pastime but a priesthood.

I just love music. I think it’s art.

The trout in yonder wimpling burn – That glides, a silver dart, – And, safe beneath the shady thorn, – Defies the anglers art.

A work of art is not a matter of thinking beautiful thoughts or experiencing tender emotions , but of intelligence, skill, taste, proportion, knowledge, discipline and industry; especially discipline.

only an aching heart Conceives a changeless work of art.

The true art of memory is the art of attention.