“The death of a dream can in fact serve as the vehicle that endows it with new form, with reinvigorated substance, a fresh flow of ideas, and splendidly revitalized color.”

Here are lips of flame eager to be extinguished by love’s liquid sigh.

Mixtape’ is a very appropriate word to include in the title of Goran Hugo Olsson’s film because it includes a rich mixture of cultural voices.

Feet sandaled with dreams tread paths of vision leading to wisdom’s sharp peaks.

As history has demonstrated many times over, change may arrive slowly or quickly but it is the one constant, in one form or another, on which we can all count.

Life’s beginnings, along with all the muted and explosive moments that surface between the two extremes.

Just above our terror, the stars painted this story in perfect silver calligraphy. And our souls, too often abused by ignorance, covered our eyes with mercy.

There is in Albert Camus’ literary craftsmanship a seductive intelligence that could almost make a reader dismiss his philosophical intentions if he had not insisted on making them so clear.

Passion presented with a greater challenge achieves a greater goal.

And what you know from the depths of your own heart to the peaks of your soul to be true. What happens after that is up to you.

How hard are human beings willing to fight to achieve and sustain justice, equanimity, or joy? And should progress be called such when it devours what is best within the human spirit?

The whole purpose of the construction of The Bridge of Silver Wings was to provide a path leading to The River of Winged Dreams, or to serve as a resting place until the river’s deeper and truer nature revealed itself.

The more sincere the soul, the heavier the cross endured.

How many fears came between us? Earthquakes, diseases, wars where hell rained smoldering pus from skies made of winged death.

Some have speculated that the way [Albert] Camus died made his theories on absurdity a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Compassion crowns the soul with its truest victory.

Everywhere we shine death and life burn into something new.

To describe women, the pen should be dipped in the humid colors of the rainbow, and the paper dried with the dust gathered from the wings of a butterfly.

If you disturb the colors of the rainbow, the rainbow is no longer beautiful.

It gives men courage and ambition and the nerve for anything. It has the colour of gold, is clear as a glass and shines after dark as if the sunshine were still in it.

The contrast was incredible.

Can anything good come of a backward way of thinking like judging someone based on skin color? No way.

Today we reject the notion of equality between a regime that belongs to the democratic world – even if it is conservative and disagreeable – and a totalitarian dictatorship, whether its colors are black, red, or green.

My real hair color is kind of a dark blonde. Now I just have mood hair.

Love overcomes hate. Love has no color. Love has no orientation. All is love.