“Nothing is built on stone; all is built on sand, but we must build as if the sand were stone.”

I gazed at every mirror on the planet, not one gave back my reflection.

Only in the present do things happen.

Doubt is one of the names of intelligence.

Time, which despoils castles, enriches verses.

Each thing implies the universe.

All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art.

Thus my life is a flight and I lose everything and everything belongs to oblivion, or to him.

Israelites, Christians and Muslims profess immortality, but the veneration they render this world proves they believe only in it, since they destine all other worlds, in infinite number, to be its reward or punishment.

Soccer is popular because stupidity is popular.

Happy are the beloved and the lovers and those who can live without love.

Another school declares that all time has already transpired and that our life is only the crepuscular and no doubt falsified and mutilated memory or reflection of an irrecoverable process.

He consorted with prostitutes and poets and with persons even worse.

I foresee that man will resign himself each day to new abominations, and soon that only bandits and soldiers will be left.

No one is a poet from eight to twelve and from two to six. Whoever is a poet is one always, and continually assaulted by poetry.

Reality is partial to symmetry and slight anachronisms

A poet is a discoverer rather than an inventor.

I’m here because the reason I get up each morning, needs me as much as I need her.” -Jax Stone

Shame on those breasts of stone that cannot melt in soft adoption of another’s sorrow.

Stone, steel, dominions pass, Faith too, no wonder; So leave alone the grass That I am under.

My love is like a stone tied round my neck; it’s dragging me down to the bottom; but I love my stone. I can’t live without it.

What else is chance but the rude stone which receives its life from the sculptor’s hand? Providence gives us chance, and man must mould it to his own designs.

I always feel the movement is a sort of mosaic. Each of us puts in one little stone, and then you get a great mosaic at the end.

You shouldn’t throw stones if you live in a glass house and if you got a glass jaw, you should watch yo mouth: cause I’ll break yo face.

Civilization will not attain to its perfection until the last stone from the last church falls on the last priest.