Emotions and Feelings

What though the field be lost?

The mind is its own place, and in itself

The infernal serpent; he it was, whose guile

Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise

Such sights as youthful poets dream

Come, and trip it as ye go

Hence, loathèd Melancholy,

Nods, and becks, and wreathèd smiles.

Come, pensive nun, devout and pure,

Against the threats

He’s a man way out there in the blue, riding on a smile and a shoeshine. And when they start not smiling back—that’s an earthquake … A salesman is got to dream, boy. It comes with the territory.

The Conservatives … being by the law of their existence the stupidest party.

Ask yourself whether you are happy, and you cease to be so.

Enter these enchanted woods,

Love is the delusion that one woman differs from another.

Puritanism. The haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.

Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale … from hell’s heart I stab at thee.

People ask you for criticism, but they only want praise.

What I dream of is an art of balance, of purity and serenity devoid of troubling or depressing subject matter … a soothing, calming influence on the mind, rather like a good armchair which provides relaxation from physical fatigue.

PLEASE ACCEPT MY RESIGNATION. I DON’T WANT TO BELONG TO ANY CLUB THAT WILL ACCEPT ME AS A MEMBER.

PLEASE ACCEPT MY RESIGNATION. I DON’T WANT TO BELONG TO ANY CLUB THAT WILL ACCEPT ME AS A MEMBER.

I never forget a face, but in your case I’ll be glad to make an exception.

Writing a book of poetry is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo.

an optimist is a guy