There are more martyrs to nonsense than truth, truth preferring missionaries.

The artist uses the talent he has, wishing he had more talent. The talent uses the artist it has, wishing it had more artist.

Sometimes the best way to forgive is to let the other person forget.

The verdict is still out on my life, the judge having not yet instructed the jury, both of whom are me.

The mind, as you age, Is an artist, it seems. Monet paints your mem’ries, Picasso your dreams.

We labor to make a house a home, then every time we're expecting visitors, we rush to turn it back into a house.

The older you get, the fewer things it seems too late to do.