There's something that happens when you discover the truth about someone. I know a little about this. The truth changes everything. There's this woman, a personality, like a collage I've put together from the photographs, the few memories I have, the scraps of stories I've heard, the clothes of hers I've got, her books. And none of its real. She wasn't that woman at all, she was - she was a horrible person... Who killed you father... Vaughn, I just wanted to say... that I'm so sorry.

The King of Cups expects a picnic. But this is not his birthday.

Eyeballs to entrails, my sweet

If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank... Without passion, we'd be truly dead.

Nobody ever dies... and everyone lies hapily ever after. - ... Liar

Behind it rose the ancient castle, its towers roofless, and its massive walls crumbling away, but telling us proudly of its own might and strength, as when, seven hundred years ago, it rang with the clash of arms, or resounded with the noise of feasting and revelry.

To me Van Gogh is the finest painter of them all. Certainly the most popular, great painter of all time. The most beloved, his command of colour most magnificent. He transformed the pain of his tormented life into ecstatic beauty. Pain is easy to portray, but to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world, no one had ever done it before. Perhaps no one ever will again. To my mind, that strange, wild man who roamed the fields of Provence was not only the world's greatest artist, but also one of the greatest men who ever lived.

My name is Amy Pond. When I was seven I had an imaginary friend. Last night was the night before my wedding. My imaginary friend came back.

You should write a book translating the mad things girls do so boys can understand them.