I like the way men cry. They're efficient.

That's how you know you love someone, I guess, when you can't experience anything without wishing the other person were there to see it, too.

Why is it so hard to articulate love yet so easy to express disappointment?

I'll never be ready. Yet at the same time, you always want to reach the end. You can't fly to a destination and linger in the air. I want to reach the end of this thing, and I feel terrible about it.

Perhaps I did nothing because I don't have enough fear to be a good parent.

I'm sorry, " I say. "I didn't give you everything you wanted. I wasn't everything you wanted. You were everything I wanted.

I lean down so that my face is right in front of hers and whisper, ‘He doesn’t love you. I love you.

But the old man would not so, but slew his son, And half the seed of Europe, one by one.

He drifted about with his head full of myths, always at least half lost in some otherland of story. Demons and wingsmiths, seraphim and spirits, he love it all.

All that God is, will supply your need.

Honesty with ourselves & others gets us sober, but it is tolerance that keeps us that way.

Poetry resonates differently in each culture; it doesn't in America.

When I'm playing well, I don't even take aim.

If you are not happier every day, if you don't see a progression of development, then you are certainly not practicing yoga or Buddhism and therefore you cannot be amassing any positive karma.

The wholeness and freedom we seek is our true nature, who we really are.

Jane Austen's books, too, are absent from this library. Just that one omission alone would make a fairly good library out of a library that hadn't a book in it.

As for begging, it is safer to beg than to take, but it is finer to take than to beg