“Whatever you are is all okay. I don’t like you anyway.”

And the tree was happy.

And if I say this is a wonderful poem, Is that exaggeration?

It’s all the same to the clam.

Once I spoke the language of the flowers, Once I understand each word the caterpillar said, Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings.

When the light turns green, you go. When the light turns red, you stop. But what do you do when the light turns blue with orange and lavender spots?

But all the magic I have known I’ve had to make it myself.

And she loved a boy very, very much- even more than she loved herself.

There is a place where the sidewalk ends.

And he didn’t really know where he was going, but he did know he was going somewhere because you really have to go somewhere, don’t you?

And the boy loved the tree, very much. And the tree was happy.

If the track is tough and the hill is rough, thinking you can just ain’t enough.

I keep meeting all the right people at all the wrong places.

I can be somebody’s and still be my own.

And all the colors I am inside have not been invented yet.

There are no happy endings. Endings are the saddest part, so just give me a happy middle And a very happy start.

He wasted his wishes on wishing.

If you make action movies, the critics will savage you, and then your movies are outdated the following week with the new wave of special effects.

I am as free as nature first made man, Ere the base laws of servitude began, When wild in woods the noble savage ran.

The ideal of morality has no more dangerous rival than the ideal of highest strength, of most powerful life. It is the maximum of the savage.

Music is good for everybody. They say it soothes the savage beast. Well, I think theirs a beast in all of us. So let’s get some more music and soothe all the beasts out there.

Let us dedicate ourselves to what the Greeks wrote so many years ago: to tame the savageness of man and make gentle the life of this world.

Too much society makes a man frivolous; too little, a savage.

Remember her hair in the morning before it was pinned, black, rampant, savage with loveliness. As if she slept in perpetual storm.

I have struck a city – a real city – and they call it Chicago… I urgently desire never to see it again. It is inhabited by savages.