“That music in itself, whose sounds are song, The poetry of speech.”

A drop of ink may make a million think.

This is the age of oddities let loose.

If from society we learn to live, solitude should teach us how to die.

There is music in all things, if men had ears.

But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.

A celebrity is one who is known to many persons he is glad he doesn’t know.

And gentle winds and waters near, make music to the lonely ear.

In solitude, when we are least alone.

Men think highly of those who rise rapidly in the world; whereas nothing rises quicker than dust, straw, and feathers.

All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.

Opinions are made to be changed or how is truth to be got at?

A small drop of ink makes thousands, perhaps millions… think.

What a strange thing is man! And what a stranger is woman.

The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.

Armenian is the language to speak with God.

The dew of compassion is a tear.

When nonviolence begins halfway through the war with the aggressor calling time out, it exposes itself as a ruse.

This is my firm persuasion, that since the human soul exerts itself with so great activity.

As long as the marks are related to one another, there is unity. Unity in the work itself depends on unity of the artist’s vision.

Make the work interesting and the discipline will take care of itself.

The book itself is a curious artifact, not showy in its technology but complex and extremely efficient: a really neat little device, compact, often very pleasant to look at and handle, that can last decades, even centuries.

My videos represent the artist in me very well, but not the kind of woman I am.

Science is incompetent to reason upon the creation of matter itself out of nothing. We have reached the utmost limit of our thinking faculties when we have admitted that because matter cannot be eternal and self-existent it must have been created.

When we were in the Dark Ages, it was a question of humanity somehow managing to forget about itself. We put God in the centre of society, and people forgot about their own nature and desires. There was a huge deal of repression.