“I have the words already. What I am seeking is the perfect order of words in the sentence. You can see for yourself how many different ways they might be arranged.”

Time is, time was, but time shall be no more.

Life is too short to read a bad book.

Children must be educated by love, not punishment.

Masturbation! The amazing availability of it!

To learn one must be humble. But life is the great teacher.

People could put up with being bitten by a wolf but what properly riled them was a bite from a sheep.

Every life is in many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love. But always meeting ourselves.

The light music of whiskey falling into glasses made an agreeable interlude.

Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past.

Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother’s love is not.

In the particular is contained the universal.

We are bound together by the sympathy of our antipathies.

A man of genius makes no mistakes; his errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.

Think you’re escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.

History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.

I care not if I live but a day and a night, so long as my deeds live after me.

I wonder why it is that we find some days so much more oppressive than others, for no apparent reason. Is it growing pains – or spiritual trial? Once they’re over, the world looks quite a different place again.

I feel I’m at the end of something – everything is going to be different – and terrible.

Doing good and being good; are two different things. The first is a shirt we put on, take off. The latter is our skin.

I was born in St. Louis, but I’m from Maplewood, New Jersey. Maplewood is completely different than the rest of New Jersey. It’s very small. It’s quietly affluent but more low-key. Lauryn Hill is from my town, though.

If I had to do it all over again? Why not, I would do it a little bit differently.

Men and women belong to different species and communications between them is still in its infancy.

It’s very different because the Indians live as if they are their souls and Americans live as if they are their egos.

Both tears and sweat are salty, but they render a different result. Tears will get you sympathy; sweat will get you change.