Tis never the place, but the people one shares it with who are the cause of our happiest memories.

So, you see, my heart is held forever by this place," she said. "I cannot leave.

A grieving person's like a person treading in deep water--if they've nothing to hold on to, they lose hope. They slide right under.

Ever try to hold a butterfly? It can't be done. You damage them," he said. 'As gentle as you try to be, you take the powder from their wings and they won't ever fly the same. It's kinder to let them go.

If it is true that men have souls that do survive them, he went on, ignoring me, and if those souls are born again to life, you need not worry that my ghost will haunt you. I'll haunt you in the flesh, instead.

There's a line in The Barretts of Wimpole Street - you know, the play - where Elizabeth Barrett is trying to work out the meaning of one of Robert Browning's poems, and she shows it to him, and he reads it and he tells her when he wrote that poem, only God and Robert Browning knew what it meant, and now only God knows. And that's how I feel about studying English. Who knows what the writer was thinking, and why should it matter? I'd rather just read for enjoyment.

When I meet a wind I cannot fight , I can do naught but set my sails to let it take me where it will.