Through the blackest night, morning gently tiptoes, feeling its way to dawn.

It's not that I'm a Type-B personality. It's that I'm driven by a passionate, all-consuming desire to take it easy.

Man, in his sensitivity, does not give names to animals he intends to eat but goes on giving names to children he intends to send to war.

Here is the basic question: Are we marionettes, or are we creatures of free will who just happen to have a lot of jerky reflexes?

We find things where we look for them.

If animals could talk, the world would lose its best listeners.

Though you lose all hope, there is still hope, and it loves to surprise.