There is but one way of refusing To-morrow, that is to die.
The true artist can only labor con amore.
One can no more keep the mind from returning to an idea than the sea from returning to a shore. For a sailor, this is called the tide; in the case of the guilty it is called remorse. God stirs up the soul as well as the ocean.
Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.
Logic ignores the almost, just as the sun ignores the candle.
Who among us has not sought peace in a song?