Don't hoard the past. Don't cherish anything. Burn it. The artist is the phoenix who burns to emerge.

Who are you? the band sang. I tried to remember but I really couldn't say.

she’s not as pretty as you,” I said “But she’s a simpler girl,” my mother whispered.

The best you'll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.

Her hatred glittered irresistibly. I could see it, the jewel, it was sapphire, it was the cold lakes of Norway.

We recived our colouring from the Norsemen,hairy savages who hacked their gods to pieces and hung the flesh from trees.We are the ones who sacked Rome.Fear only feeble old age and death in bed.Don't forget who you are.

Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow.