“Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart.”

The difference between possible and impossible is simply determination.

Never apologize for your art.

Magic. I draw with silver and it turns red.

Joy, love, freedom, happiness, laughter. That’s what it is. And if you just experience joy sitting there and meditating for an hour, by golly, do that.

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. Matthew : .

I’m not evil, I’m just very creative.

Don’t run from the police, my uncle had always joked when we’d watched Cops years ago. You’ll only go to jail tired.

Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.

Sweat is magic. Cover yourself in it daily to grant your wishes.

Curving back within myself I create again and again.

The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.

Her soul belongs to words and books. Every time she reads, she is home.

Go the extra mile. It’s never crowded.

When things don’t happen right away, just remember: it takes months to build a Rolls-Royce and just hours to build a Toyota.

Those who can, do. Those who can’t, criticize.

And if the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch.

Our delight in any particular study, art, or science rises and improves in proportion to the application which we bestow upon it. Thus, what was at first an exercise becomes at length an entertainment.

The degradation which characterizes the state into which you plunge him by punishing him pleases, amuses, and delights him.

How delightful are the pleasures of the imagination! In those delectable moments, the whole world is ours; not a single creature resists us.

We have had an unspeakably delightful journey, one of those journeys which seem to divide one’s life in two, by the new ideas they suggest and the new views of interest they open.

The imagination is the spur of delights… all depends upon it, it is the mainspring of everything; now, is it not by means of the imagination one knows joy? Is it not of the imagination that the sharpest pleasures arise?

Writers know words are their way towards truth and freedom, and so they use them with care, with thought, with fear, with delight.

We delight in one knowable thing, which comprehends all that is knowable; in one apprehensible, which draws together all that can be apprehended; in a single being that includes all, above all in the one which is itself the all.

The delight of the nursing mother, of the scholar, of the successful hunter, of the good cook, of the skilful maker, of anyone doing needed work and doing it well, – this durable joy is perhaps the deepest source of human affection and of sociality as a whole.