“She has man’s brain–a brain that a man should have were he much gifted–and woman’s heart. The good God fashioned her for a purpose, believe me when He made that so good combination.”

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!

It was like a miracle, but before our very eyes, and almost in the drawing of a breath, the whole body crumbled into dust and passed from our sight.

No one but a woman can help a man when he is in trouble of the heart.

Do you not think that there are things which you cannot understand, and yet which are; that some people see things that others cannot? But there are things old and new which must not be contemplate by men´s eyes, because they know -or think they know- some things which other men have told them..

Paris is a city of centralisation–and centralisation and classification are closely allied. In the early times, when centralisation is becoming a fact, its forerunner is classification. All things which are similar or analogous become grouped together, and from the grouping of groups rises one whole or central point.

Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer–both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams.

If this be an ordered selfishness, then we should pause before we condemn any one for the vice of egoism, for there may be deeper root for its causes than we have knowledge of.

Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?

The Dead travel fast.

Ah, we men and women are like ropes drawn tight with strain that pull us in different directions.

And then away for home! Away to the quickest and nearest train! Away from this cursed land, where the devil and his children stil walk with earthly feet!

We need to remember that we are saved by grace when we fail. But we need to remember it much more when we succeed.

It will make you feel as if you had not eaten, and you can drink as much as you like.

Basketball has been my life and I worked at it so hard because I enjoyed it so much.

We must know, as much as possible, in our beautiful art…what we are talking about and the only way to know is to have lived and loved and cursed and floundered and enjoyed and suffered.

I’m very much down to earth, just not this earth.

And natural in gesture; much impress’d Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds May feel it too; affectionate in look, And tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men.

Gerard and I pretty much share all parenting responsibilities, although I’m definitely the disciplinarian.

Pleasure is labour too, and tires as much.