But sure the eye of time beholds no name, So blest as thine in all the rolls of fame.
Despair puts the last touch not only to our misery but also to our weakness.
The lazy are always wanting to do something.
Necessity relieves us from the embarrassment of choice.
We don't have enough time to premeditate our actions.
There are those who are so scrupulously afraid of doing wrong that they seldom venture to do anything.
None are more liable to mistakes than those who act only on second thoughts.
Yet nothing can to nothing fall, Nor any place be empty quite; Therefore I think my breast hath all Those pieces still, though they be not unite; And now, as broken glasses show A hundred lesser faces, so My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore, But after one such love, can love no more.
To me, and I'm sure for other writers, too, characters come back and they relive again, but what about those characters who only live for a page or two? Or for five pages or 10 pages. I like to think they're still out there - still living - but for me they kind of die, too. It's kind of sad. I don't think about them anymore unless I give them life again.
Happiness is always a coincidence.
Everything is governed by one law. A human being is a microcosmos, i. e. the laws prevailing in the cosmos also operate in the minutest space of the human being.