“Light is the task where many share the toil.”

Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.

Modesty is of no use to a beggar.

The journey is the thing.

The melancholy joys of evils pass’d, For he who much has suffer’d, much will know.

Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.

A woman is a lot like a refrigerator. Six feet tall, 300 pounds, it makes ice.

I didn’t lie! I just created fiction with my mouth!

How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise!

The journey is its own reward.

Choose well.

Dreams surely are difficult, confusing, and not everything in them is brought to pass for mankind.

Empty words are evil.

There is nothing worse for mortals than a wandering life.

What are the children of men, but as leaves that drop at the wind’s breath?

Sleep, delicious and profound, the very counterfeit of death.

There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible – magic to make the sanest man go mad.

Darkness is an absence of light. Ego is an absence of awareness.

There’s a light in a woman’s eyes that speaks louder than words.

The future doesn’t belong to the light-hearted. It belongs to the brave.

At the touch of this divine light, the mountains seemed to kindle to a rapt, religious consciousness, and stood hushed like devout worshippers waiting to be blessed.

Lightning is a pure expression of firebending without aggression.

Books swept me away, this way and that, one after the other; I made endless vows according to their lights for I believed them.

The pupil dilates in darkness and in the end finds light, just as the soul dilates in misfortune and in the end finds God.

Do the gods light this fire in our hearts or does each man’s mad desire become his god?