A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.
,
A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.
And so it goes...
For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?
If you ever looked at me once with what I know is in you, I would be your slave.
O teach me how I should forget to think (1.1.224)
A great nose may be an index
Of a great soul
Some people could look at a mud puddle and see an ocean with ships.
When I think of what life is, and how seldom love is answered by love; it is one of the moments for which the world was made.
No mockery in this world ever sounds to me so hollow as that of being told to cultivate happiness. What does such advice mean? Happiness is not a potato, to be planted in mould, and tilled with manure. Happiness is a glory shining far down upon us out of Heaven. She is a divine dew which the soul, on certain of its summer mornings, feels dropping upon it from the amaranth bloom and golden fruitage of Paradise.
I often stood in front of the mirror alone, wondering how ugly a person could get.
All books are divisible into two classes: the books of the hours, and the books of all Time.
May you not rest, as long as I am living. You said I killed you - haunt me, then.