Marion Davies

"With me it was 5 per cent talent and 95 per cent publicity."

- Marion Davies

Percy Bysshe Shelley

I have drunken deep of joy, And I will taste no other wine tonight.


Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.


A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and comprehensively; he must put himself in the place of another and of many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own.


A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.


All of us who are worth anything, spend our manhood in unlearning the follies, or expiating the mistakes of our youth.


Change is certain. Peace is followed by disturbances; departure of evil men by their return. Such recurrences should not constitute occasions for sadness but realities for awareness, so that one may be happy in the interim.


Concerning God, freewill and destiny: Of all that earth has been or yet may be, all that vain men imagine or believe, or hope can paint or suffering may achieve, we descanted.


I think that the leaf of a tree, the meanest insect on which we trample, are in themselves arguments more conclusive than any which can be adduced that some vast intellect animates Infinity.


Love is free; to promise for ever to love the same woman is not less absurd than to promise to believe the same creed; such a vow in both cases excludes us from all inquiry.


Nothing wilts faster than laurels that have been rested upon.


The more we study the more we discover our ignorance.


Obscenity, which is ever blasphemy against the divine beauty in life, is a monster for which the corruption of society forever brings forth new food, which it devours in secret.


We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.


Soul meets soul on lovers' lips.


The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.


Tragedy delights by affording a shadow of the pleasure which exists in pain.


When my cats aren't happy, I'm not happy. Not because I care about their mood but because I know they're just sitting there thinking up ways to get even.


Familiar acts are beautiful through love.


Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.


- Percy Bysshe Shelley