“Love is, after all, a selfish thing; and it throws a black shadow on anything between which and the light it stands.”

Nature in one of her beneficent moods has ordained that even death has some antidote to its own terrors.

Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact that the driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the sky.

You cannot guess or measure the terrible endless longing to see the gates opened, and to be able to join the white figures within.

She was young and very beautiful, but pale, like the grey pallor of death.

Denn die Todten reiten Schnell. (For the dead travel fast.)

How good and thoughtful he is; the world seems full of good men–even if there are monsters in it.

Once again…welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring.

And so we remained till the red of the dawn began to fall through the snow gloom. I was desolate and afraid, and full of woe and terror. But when that beautiful sun began to climb the horizon life was to me again.

Despair has its own calms.

I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of which the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with the horrible vindictive look which I knew so well.

Our toil must be in silence, and our efforts all in secret; for this enlightened age, when men believe not even what they see, the doubting of wise men would be his greatest strength.

Above the care of Nature and of State, Suspended in the noon of Night we wait, All slumber nursing, to make sweet and pure, While secret Nature, weaving works the cure. We are the handmaids of the hollow night,

Before I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that never more can the Count enter there Undead.

You yourself never loved; you never love! Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so?

I want you to believe…to believe in things that you cannot.

We learn from failure, not from success!

In my opinion, Louis Armstrong is the greatest trumpet stylist of all time and has influenced every trumpet player of his time and long after

I think it was Columbia politics, Columbia Records politics that, that, Tom Wilson left [Bob Dylan] after “Like A Rolling Stone”.

That went for the writers, too; they all had their own political leanings, and everybody had a voice. But the voices were mostly critical. It was social commentary, after all.

I think there are all kinds of different hells. It’s not a place you go to after you die.

Seemed merely a temporary halt on my steady descent through layer after layer of depression, like an elevator stopping for a moment on the way down to the basement.

I was in fifth grade and my teacher saw an ad in the paper and took me to the audition after school and I got the part.

Hey, Hachi People always say that you only discover how precious something is after you lose it— but I think, you only really recognize it… when you see it a second time face to face. -Nana Osaki

The embassy was active here after the revolution. We didn’t have any problem with them. They started it.