I should never be left alone with my mind for too long. - Libba Bray

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard, are sweeter - John Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn and Other Poems

Be like the flower that gives its fragrance to even the hand that crushes it. - Ali ibn Abi Talib

Reality continues to ruin my life. - Bill Watterson, The Complete Calvin and Hobbes

You called me at four thirty-four....I hate four thirty-four. I think four thirty-four should be banned and replaced with something more reasonable, like, say, nine twelve. - Darynda Jones, First Grave on the Right

Once upon a time, I dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was myself. Soon I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man. - Zhuangzi, The Butterfly as Companion: Meditations on the First Three Chapters of the Chuang-Tzu

If you simply ignored the feeling, you would never know what might happen, and in many ways that was worse than finding out in the first place. Because if you were wrong, you could go forward in your life without ever looking back over your shoulder and wondering what might have been. - Nicholas Sparks, Message in a Bottle

Oh! it is absurd to have a hard-and-fast rule about what one should read and what one shouldn't. More than half of modern culture depends on what one shouldn't read. - Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

I never want to be away from you again, except at work, in the restroom or when one of us is at a movie the other does not want to see. - Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters

We wait and think and doubt and hate. How does it make you feel? The overwhelming feeling is rage. We hate ourself for being unable to be other than what we are. Unable to be better. We feel rage. The feelings must be followed. It doesn't matter whether you're an ideologue or a sensualist, you follow the stimuli thinking that they're your signposts to the promised land. But they are nothing of the kind. What they are is rocks to navigate the past, each on your brush against, ripping you a little more open and they are always more on the horizon. But you can't face up to the that, so you force yourself to believe the bullshit of those you instinctively know are liars and you repeat those lies to yourself and to others, hoping that by repeating them often and fervently enough you'll attain the godlike status we accord those who tell the lies most frequently and most passionately. But you never do, and even if you could, you wouldn't value it, you'd realise that nobody believes in heroes any more. We know that they only want to sell us something we don't really want and keep from us what we really do need. Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe we're getting in touch with our condition at last. It's horrible how we always die alone, but no worse than living alone. - Irvine Welsh, Filth