Their names are Death, Disease, War, and Sparkle-Darkle Glitter-tits, Sophie said. They’re the four little ponies of the Apocalypse.
It is best to rise from life as from a banquet, neither thirsty nor drunken.
You say you love rain, but you use an umbrella to walk under it. You say you love sun, but you seek shelter when it is shining. You say you love wind, but when it comes you close your windows. So that...
Before you call yourself a Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Hindu or any other theology, learn to be human first.
Nostalgia has a way of blocking the reality of the past.
If you caress me one more time, you will melt the butter on my toast.
Arise, my love, let us try to set these ashes on fire again!
Most priests wish they were as righteous as they seem to most members of their congregations.
The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.
...I fell asleep and had a dream that a king was liquidated by a group of kind faces...
How is it possible that suffering that is neither my own nor of my concern should immediately affect me as though it were my own, and with such force that is moves me to action?