It is not worth an intelligent man's time to be in the majority. By definition, there are already enough people to do that.

A true artist willingly removes their heart, allows constructive criticism to stomp it, then puts it back--bruised and aching--to continue improving due to the all-consuming obsessive love for their art.

A true artist removes his heart willingly, allows constructive criticism to stomp it, then puts it back—bruised and aching—as he continues to strive for excellence due to the all-consuming obsession and love for his art.

Plenty of mathematicians, Hardy knew, could follow a step-by-step discursus unflaggingly—yet counted for nothing beside Ramanujan. Years later, he would contrive an informal scale of natural mathematical ability on which he assigned himself a 25 and Littlewood a 30. To David Hilbert, the most eminent mathematician of the day, he assigned an 80. To Ramanujan he gave 100.

Don't die to see me, live to love me.

Well, if she was dumb enough to marry you, she'll believe anything.