Water - a thoroughly underrated drink.

Whoever thirst for money is real victim of a capital illusion.

The journey towards success is more like a traveller lost in a desert, desperate to find an oasis, desperate to quench his thirst. But it is not about how grave the thirst is but about how long he chooses to walk thirsty.

I love like I’m thirsty. Can I offer you a tall glass of Sahara sand?

You make me thirsty, Promethea, my river, you make me eternally thirsty, my water. As if I had spent my life in an old house of dried mud, so dry myself that I could not even thirst, until yesterday. And suddenly yesterday, the dusty floor of my old house burst open and while I was still dozing away my parched existence, drop by drop I heard the music of coolness awaken the thirst under my dry soul. And leaning over the dark shaft of my life, I saw my childhood springs unearthed. Is that always how (by accident) we rediscover Magdalenian riches?

There is a deep dryness of the soul and all of the recalcitrant contrivances of man to quench his own thirst will bring not a single drop of moisture to those parched places, for God and God alone holds the water that satiates the soul.

Do not curse the well that quenches your thirst.

I missed the crowds in those big stadiums, the flashbulbs, the roaring cheers - the majesty of the whole thing. I missed it bitterly. So did my father. We shared a thirst to return; unspoken, undeniable.

We need houses as we need clothes, architecture stimulates fashion. It’s like hunger and thirst — you need them both.

The future was chaos, war and blood and thirst, ending with everyone's bones bleached white in the desert. The sand would bury their buildings and bodies, and eventually it would be impossible to tell that anyone had lived in the desert at all.