The true philosopher is a man who says "All right," and goes to sleep in his armchair.

"Pulling the chair out for me, he invited me to sit.

She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing arm-chairs tight about the hips that season

"I came to the table, pulled up a chair, and sat.

"Grabbing a scarf off the chair, I threw it at him.

The downside of my celebrity is that I cannot go anywhere in the world without being recognized. It is not enough for me to wear dark sunglasses and a wig. The wheelchair gives me away.

I didn't realize there was a ranking." I said. "Sadie frowned. "What do you mean?" "A ranking," I said. "You know, what's crazier than what." "Oh, sure there is," Sadie said. She sat back in her chair. "First you have your generic depressives. They're a dime a dozen and usually pretty boring. Then you've got the bulimics and the anorexics. They're slightly more interesting, although usually they're just girls with nothing better to do. Then you start getting into the good stuff: the arsonists, the schizophrenics, the manic-depressives. You can never quite tell what those will do. And then you've got the junkies. They're completely tragic, because chances are they're just going to go right back on the stuff when they're out of here." "So junkies are at the top of the crazy chain," I said. Sadie shook her head. "Uh-uh," she said. "Suicides are." I looked at her. "Why?" "Anyone can be crazy," she answered. "That's usually just because there's something screwed up in your wiring, you know? But suicide is a whole different thing. I mean, how much do you have to hate yourself to want to just wipe yourself out?

Anxiety's like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you very far.

The library smells like old books - a thousand leather doorways into other worlds. I hear silence, like the mind of God. I feel a presence in the empty chair beside me. The librarian watches me suspiciously. But the library is a sacred place, and I sit with the patron saint of readers. Pulsing Goddess light moves through me for one moment like a glimpse of eternity instantly forgotten. She is gone. I smell mold, I hear the clock ticking, I see an empty chair. Ask me now and I'll say this is just a place where you can't play music or eat. She's gone. The library sucks.

When humans were young, they were pushed around in strollers. When they were old, they were pushed around in wheelchairs. In between, they were just pushed around.

I've apparently been the victim of growing up, which apparently happens to all of us at one point or another. It's been going on for quite some time now, without me knowing it. I've found that growing up can mean a lot of things. For me, it doesn't mean I should become somebody completely new and stop loving the things I used to love. It means I've just added more things to my list. Like for example, I'm still beyond obsessed with the winter season and I still start putting up strings of lights in September. I still love sparkles and grocery shopping and really old cats that are only nice to you half the time. I still love writing in my journal and wearing dresses all the time and staring at chandeliers. But some new things I've fallen in love with -- mismatched everything. Mismatched chairs, mismatched colors, mismatched personalities. I love spraying perfumes I used to wear when I was in high school. It brings me back to the days of trying to get a close parking spot at school, trying to get noticed by soccer players, and trying to figure out how to avoid doing or saying anything uncool, and wishing every minute of every day that one day maybe I'd get a chance to win a Grammy. Or something crazy and out of reach like that. ;) I love old buildings with the paint chipping off the walls and my dad's stories about college. I love the freedom of living alone, but I also love things that make me feel seven again. Back then naivety was the norm and skepticism was a foreign language, and I just think every once in a while you need fries and a chocolate milkshake and your mom. I love picking up a cookbook and closing my eyes and opening it to a random page, then attempting to make that recipe. I've loved my fans from the very first day, but they've said things and done things recently that make me feel like they're my friends -- more now than ever before. I'll never go a day without thinking about our memories together.

Pull up a chair. Take a taste. Come join us. Life is so endlessly delicious.

There's a little vanity chair that Charlie gave me the first Christmas we knew each other. I'll not be parting with that nor our bed - the four-poster - I'll be needing that to die in.

Moving between the legs of tables and of chairs rising or falling grasping at kisses and toys advancing boldly sudden to take alarm retreating to the corner of arm and knee eager to be reassured taking pleasure in the fragrant brilliance of the Christmas tree.

Any man today who returns from work sinks into a chair and calls for his pipe is a man with an appetite for danger.

When I was deputy chairman I could travel from Glasgow to Edinburgh without leaving Tory land. In a two-week period I covered every constituency in which we had an MP. There were 14. Now we have only one. We appear to have given up.

Jackson went from the professor's chair to the officer's saddle. He carried with him the very elements of character which made him odious as a teacher but I never saw him in an arbitrary mood.

I've always remembered something Sanford Meisner my acting teacher told us. When you create a character it's like making a chair except instead of making someting out of wood you make it out of yourself. That's the actor's craft - using yourself to create a character.

When I was in junior high school the teachers voted me the student most likely to end up in the electric chair.

I saw him... at peace in my armchair. I remember wishing he could stay in peace like that forever. I had a feeling of easing his burden with my strength.

Now I know you expected me to say that well I just kick back in the rocking chair fished a little bit listened to Willie Nelson tapes and watched old baseball games on the Classic Sports network. And tell you the truth I have done that for maybe about five total minutes.

When Whitney Houston died I felt great sadness. My sadness of course was about our collective loss - when you listened to this nightingale sing your body would drop into a chair your head would tilt up a small smile would creep across your face and inside you knew that there was a higher power somewhere: gifted beautiful spiritual.

I'm chairing a UNESCO committee on how to improve global Internet communications for science help third-world people get onto the Net so they can be part of the process.

I enter negotiations with Chairman Arafat the leader of the PLO the representative of the Palestinian people with the purpose to have coexistence between our two entities Israel as a Jewish state and Palestinian state entity next to us living in peace.