amaguire’s most recent Quotables

He is really not so ugly after all, provided, of course, that one shuts one's eyes, and does not look at him.

Over the piano was printed a notice: Please do not shoot the pianist. He is doing his best.

Don't mind anything anyone tells you about anyone else. Judge everyone and everything for yourself.

To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.

How sweet I roamed from field to field,
And tasted all the summer's pride,
Till I the prince of love beheld,
Who in the sunny beams did glide!

Fashion is custom in the guise of departure from custom.

A risk shared is a risk doubled.

Oh, marvellous. You're going to kill me. What a finely tuned response to the situation.

You know how it is; you put things off for a day and next thing you know, it's a hundred years later.

You may disguise your features but you can never disguise your intent.

For some people, small, beautiful events are what life is all about!

So how upset were you when you woke up in the ER and you were still alive? And a failure?

I want to deal with my problems some place where I can get a decent cappuccino.

Because life shouldn't be random. Because lonely, misantropic drug addicts should die in bus crashes. And the young do-gooders in love that get dragged out of their apartments in the middle of the night should walk away clean.

You know how people say you can't live without love? Well, oxygen's even more important.

Dr. Cuddy: Your reputation won't last if you don't do your job; the clinic is part of your job. I want you to do your job.
Dr. House: Ah, yes, but as the philosopher Jagger once said, 'You can't always get what you want.'

Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.

Love is a smoke made with the fumes of sighs;
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears;
What is it else? A madness most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

If music is the food of love, play on.