“I suppose a cry does us all good at times-clears the air as other rain does.”

No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be.

There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by age they may solve only in part.

It is something like the way dame Nature gathers round a foreign body an envelope of some insensitive tissue which can protect from evil that which it would otherwise harm by contact.

My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side.

There is a method in his madness, and the rudimentary idea in my mind is growing. It will be a whole idea soon, and then, oh, unconscious cerebration.

A personal experience has intensified rather than diminished that idea.

Enter freely and of your own free will!

For now, feeling as though my own brain were unhinged or as if the shock had come which must end in its undoing, I turn to my diary for repose. The habit of entering accurately must help sooth me.

I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing.

Oh, my dear, if you only knew how strange is the matter regarding which I am here, it is you who would laugh.

Good women tell all their lives, and by day and by hour and by minute, such things that angels can read.

The blood is the life!

And yet, unless my senses deceive me, the old centuries had, and have, powers of their own which mere ‘modernity’ cannot kill.

Remember my friend, that knowledge is stronger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker

I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.

A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century.

Young Baby Boomers were forced to play duck-and-cover in school, in hopes that a desk would protect them from an atomic explosion. It was all bullshit, and they knew it.

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.

We made sure that we didn’t talk about India versus Pakistan but about the emotions of people on both sides and how terrorism affects us all.

I definitely believe that love conquers all, yes.

I’m present at all pyrotechnical rehearsals; and I walk through everything step-by-step.

Of all my films, people wrote to me most about this one.

Since what happened in them was beyond the imagination, it was therefore also beyond art and all those human values on which art is traditionally based.

Prayer and encouraging words change things. We’re all human. We all go through stuff.