I know If I score we're going to win the match.
I don't know myself, what to do, where to go. . . I lie in the crack of a book for my comfort. . . it's what the world offers. . . please leave me alone to dream as I fancy.
Words are the supreme objects. They are minded things.
The expression to write something down suggests a descent of thought to the fingers whose movements immediately falsify it.
Words [are] more beautiful than a found fall leaf.
I was struck by the way in which meanings are historically attached to words: it is so accidental, so remote, so twisted. A word is like a schoolgirl's room--a complete mess--so the great thing is to make out a way of seeing it all as ordered, as right, as inferred and following.
Some people say their life is full of darkness and I wonder why they don't just try and switch the lights on.
I have known Johnnie Cochran for many years as an attorney and personal friend, but he has already expressed publicly that he is not on this case.
When one door closes, another one opens.
Football is not part of that lifestyle anymore.
And what does it matter when light enters the room where a child sleeps and the waking mother, opening her eyes, wishes more than anything to be unwakened by what she cannot name?