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— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow"To-morrow! the mysterious, unknown guest, Who cries to me: "Remember Barmecide, And tremble to be happy with the rest." And I make answer: "I am satisfied; I dare not ask; I know not what is best; God hath already said what shall betide."
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Letter-writing I imagine is counted as 'work' from which you must abstain, and I scribble this letter simply from the self-satisfied notion that you will like to hear from me. You see, I have asked no questions, which are the torture-screws of correspondence. Hence you have nothing to answer.
— George Eliot
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People, when they come up to me, are like, "Did we go to high school together? Or did I make out with you at sleepaway camp?" And oftentimes, yes, that is the answer, because I went to a giant high school and made out with everybody.
— Adam Pally
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