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I tore myself away from the safe comfort of certainties through my love for the truth; and truth rewarded me.
Simone de BeauvoirMy whole career can be summed up with 'Ignorance is bliss.' When you do not know better, you do not really worry about failing.
Jeff FoxworthyUnder the influence of art the walls expand, the roof rises, and it becomes a temple.
Robert IngersollI have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know no way of judging the future but by the past.
UnknownA lawyer without history or literature is a mechanic, a mere working mason; if he possesses some knowledge of these, he may venture to call himself an architect.
Walter ScottFRIST POEM
A rainbow comes pouring into my window, I am electrified.
Songs burst from my breast, all my crying stops, mistory fills
the air.
I look for my shues under my bed.
A fat colored woman becomes my mother.
I have no false teeth yet. Suddenly ten children sit on my lap.
I grow a beard in one day.
I drink a hole bottle of wine with my eyes shut.
I draw on paper and I feel I am two again. I want everybody to
talk to me.
I empty the garbage on the tabol.
I invite thousands of bottles into my room, June bugs I call them.
I use the typewritter as my pillow.
A spoon becomes a fork before my eyes.
Bums give all their money to me.
All I need is a mirror for the rest of my life.
My frist five years I lived in chicken coups with not enough
bacon.
My mother showed her witch face in the night and told stories of
blue beards.
My dreams lifted me right out of my bed.
I dreamt I jumped into the nozzle of a gun to fight it out with a
bullet.
I met Kafka and he jumped over a building to get away from me.
My body turned into sugar, poured into tea I found the meaning
of life
All I needed was ink to be a black boy.
I walk on the street looking for eyes that will caress my face.
I sang in the elevators believing I was going to heaven.
I got off at the 86th floor, walked down the corridor looking for
fresh butts.
My comes turns into a silver dollar on the bed.
I look out the window and see nobody, I go down to the street,
look up at my window and see nobody.
So I talk to the fire hydrant, asking "Do you have bigger tears
then I do?"
Nobody around, I piss anywhere.
My Gabriel horns, my Gabriel horns: unfold the cheerfulies,
my gay jubilation.
Nov. 24th, 1957, Paris
Let it be understood, America is on the side of the people struggling for an honest democratic government in Ethiopia.
Dana RohrabacherMichael and I talk at least every two weeks. He understands why I've done the things I have.
LaToya JacksonSome people imagine that nuclear war will mean instant and painless death. But for millions this will not be the case. The accounts of the injured at Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and of the doctors who tried to tend them, witness to the horrors and torments which would be magnified thousands of times over in the kinds of attack we analyse here. . .
Stan Openshaw - DoomsdayRIBROASTER, n. Censorious language by oneself concerning another. The word is of classical refinement, and is even said to have been used in a fable by Georgius Coadjutor, one of the most fastidious writers of the fifteenth century -- commonly, indeed, regarded as the founder of the Fastidiotic School.
Ambrose BierceMONKEY, n. An arboreal animal which makes itself at home in genealogical trees.
Ambrose BierceYou can't learn too soon that the most useful thing about a principle is that it can always be sacrificed to expediency.
W. Somerset MaughamIt is a barren kind of criticism which tells you what a thing is not.
R. W. GriswoldIf the man had every other baby there would never be a fourth.
Catherine Hoban-RobinsonI want to live my life so that my nights are full of regrets.
FitzgeraldIf you leave the pool you have dug for yourself and go out into the river of life then life has an astonishing way of taking care of you, because then there is no taking care on your part.
KrishnamurtiIn A Station Of The Metro
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
It is not righteousness to outrageA brave man dead, not even though you hate him.
SophoclesLove is my Sword, Goodness my Armor, And Humor my Shield.
UnknownMust, bid the Morn awake! Sad Winter now declines, Each bird doth choose a mate; This day's Saint Valentine's. For that good bishop's sake Get up and let us see What beauty it shall be That Fortune us assigns.
Michael DraytonPoetry is the utterance of deep and heartfelt truth. The true poet is very near the oracle.
Edward Hubbell ChaplinNothing spoils a confession like repentance.
Anatole FranceMany a man's tongue broke his nose.
Seamus MacManusThe only reward for love is the experience of loving.
John le CarreThe future will be better tomorrow.
Dan Quayle
