The beauty of the past belongs to the past.
It is beautiful to be what you are.
Sometimes beauty lies in the attempt.
The relationship I have with my kids is beautiful.
Angry people are not beautiful.
I'm not a beautiful prom-girl type.
All German women are beautiful.
If you're curious, London's an amazing place.
I came to the place of my birth and cried, "The friends of my youth, where are they?" And echo answered, "Where are they?"
The emotional place where a marriage begins is not nearly as important as the emotional place where a marriage finds itself toward the end, after many years of partnership.
We cannot be too careful about the words we use; we start out using them and they end up using us.
In this way, I was able to place my own concerns aside and curl myself up in the cocoon of somebody else's imagination. My life was suspended - I was in neither one place nor the other.
This would have once been a place for contemplation. He looked up at the towers surrounding him. Many of the dead bodies had been removed. Their places had been taken by the living.
When you are up there, feeling infinite space, the earth looks like a fragile planet against the immense universe. We are just another fleeting species, passing by. I do believe there is life elsewhere, and we are not alone. But not having found an a...
When I tour, it's like, well, like a food tour as much as a comedy tour. I try to eat at all the weird places, the obscure barbecue joints, burger places. There are a few spots in L.A. that I'm obsessed with - one of them is the Taco Zone taco truck ...
I guess because I had such a horrible life growing up, going from place to place not knowing what I was gonna do and ending up being homeless, there was a lot of pain and a lot of anger that was coming out through my guitar playing.
It was the heart of any true moment of decadence: the knowledge that an epoque is already slipping from us, inexorably, even in the moment of its glory.
Like Blue Ribbon Coffee, my love is in second place. But that’s OK, because like Blue Ribbon Coffee, I have winning taste.
In this quiet place on a quiet street where no one ever finds us gently, lovingly, freedom gives back our pain. --from poem In a Quiet Place on a Quiet Street
This is love, I think. A place where people who have been alone may lock together like hawks and spin in the air, dizzy with surprise at the connection. A place you go willingly, and with wonder
The snow wasn't deep - in many places its crust was firm enough that they actually walked on top of it - but the wind was surgical, a precision instrument with needles for teeth, and it found even the tiniest exposed places on her skin, attacking the...
