A work can become modern only if it is first postmodern. Postmodernism thus understood is not modernism at its end but in the nascent state and this state is constant.

God gave me some weird beautiful scent that makes men and women go crazy. People compare it to Carvel. It is a whale of a smell.

I was brought up in the War. I was an adolescent in the Second World War. And I did witness in London a great deal of the Blitz.

I am living out my adolescent dream of travel and adventure.

The toddler must say no in order to find out who she is. The adolescent says no to assert who she is not.

To an adolescent there is nothing in the world more embarrassing than a parent.

Adolescents are not monsters. They are just people trying to learn how to make it among the adults in the world who are probably not so sure themselves.

No bubble is so iridescent or floats longer than that blown by the successful teacher.

I had spindly little ankles and growing up in Canada I couldn't skate. I was no good at any sports so was very much a pariah through those adolescent years.

I know I could be the host of 'SportsCenter' in two years if I changed my show today to sports.

I am not an adolescent nor a romantic. I analyze objectively.

It more or less has the shape of a love song but 'Crescent Moon' reflects more my longing for an ancient romantic context that includes wild animals fire danger of death stellar navigation and seasonal intuition.

A true poet does not bother to be poetical. Nor does a nursery gardener scent his roses.

No one knows his true character until he has run out of gas purchased something on the installment plan and raised an adolescent.

The historic ascent of humanity taken as a whole may be summarized as a succession of victories of consciousness over blind forces - in nature in society in man himself.

I remember a hundred lovely lakes and recall the fragrant breath of pine and fir and cedar and poplar trees. The trail has strung upon it as upon a thread of silk opalescent dawns and saffron sunsets.

Nothing is more memorable than a smell. One scent can be unexpected momentary and fleeting yet conjure up a childhood summer beside a lake in the mountains.

I opened the large central window of my office room to its full on the fine early May morning. Then I stood for a few moments breathing in the soft warm air that was charged with the scent of white lilacs below.

Driving a motorcycle is like flying. All your senses are alive. When I ride through Beverly Hills in the early morning and all the sprinklers have turned off the scents that wash over me are just heavenly. Being House is like flying too. You're free of the gravity of what people think.

Now if you're Al Gore you can afford $10 a pop for squiggly-pig-tailed fluorescent light bulbs. But if you're mainstream America two or three kids mom and dad working outside the home that's not a very good deal.

In interviews I gave early on in my career I was quoted as saying it was possible to have it all: a dynamic job marriage and children. In some respects I was a social adolescent.

True love is quiescent except in the nascent moments of true humility.

Human life is as evanescent as the morning dew or a flash of lightning.

In any case in so far as our knowledge of the universe carries us the advent of civilization for the first time on our globe represents the highest ascent of the life processes to which evolution had anywhere attained.