Tupac Shakur Quotes

I thought Bolt was amazing, I mean, beating the world record and slowing down at the end, how galling has that got the for the other athletes? I never managed to do anything in 9.69 seconds, it took me ten seconds to watch him do that.

He is a very smart cookie, Michael. He knows what he wants, he knows what he is doing. I have nothing but admiration. Also, he is a very kind person.

First he appeared in the class of inorganic things,
Next he passed therefrom into that of plants,
For years he lived as one of the plants,
Remembering naught of his inorganic state so different,
And when he passed from the vegetive to the animal state
He had no remembrance of his state as a plant.

Before adolescence, memory is more interested in the future than the past...

Every time you smile, I smile
And every time you shine, I'll shine for you.

Walter Scott has no business to write novels, especially good ones. It is not fair. He has fame and profit enough as a poet, and should not be taking the bread out of other people's mouths. I do not like him, and do not mean to like Waverley if I can help it, but fear I must.

It's all for love... With the love, L.O.V.E.

It is a lovely night, and they are much to be pitied who have not been taught to feel, in some degree, as you do; who have not, at least, been given a taste for Nature in early life. They lose a great deal.

So it's gonna be forever
Or it's gonna go down in flames.
You can tell me when it's over
If the high was worth the pain.
Got a long list of ex-lovers,
They'll tell you I'm insane.
'Cause you know I love the players,
And you love the game.

Ultimately, literature is nothing but carpentry.

Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

Nothing is more unbearable, once one has it, than freedom.

I can't love you in the dark,
It feels like we're oceans apart.
There is so much space between us,
Baby, we're already defeated.
Ah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah, everything changed me.

For this too is a very pleasant strand woven into the Cynic's pattern of life; he must needs be flogged like an ass, and while he is being flogged he must love the men who flog him, as though he were the father or brother of them all.

Much has been written of love turning to hatred, of the heart growing cold with the death of love. It is a remarkable process. It is far more terrible than anything I have ever read about it, more terrible than anything I will ever be able to say.

I don't really need to stand out, there's room for everyone. Although I haven't built a niche yet, I'm just writing love songs.