In the wide pile, by others heeded not, Hers was one sacred solitary spot, Whose gloomy aisles and bending shelves containFor moral hunger food, and cures for moral pain.

No word of commiseration can make a burden feel one feather's weight lighter to the slave who must carry it.

Wounds sustained for the sake of conscience carry their own balsam with the blow.

I thought about how all that mattered, in all entirety, and all I wanted, and all I could see anything being worth anything for, was being a writer.

My heart is a compass, and it always leads me back to you.

Success is a journey. The best form of transport is Happiness.

Pain is inevitable suffering is optional.

I'm a bachelor in the old sense of the word, meaning I flirt, I have very many close relationships, but then I come home and like to read my book.

That it might turn into music that would heighten emotion, but not be important in itself.

My aunt in Knoxville would bring newspapers up, which we used for toilet paper. Before we used it, we'd look at the pictures.

A poor surgeon hurts one person at a time. A poor teacher hurts 130.

I also live in the present, due to the constraints of the space-time continuum.

"It doesn't matter how long it takes." She thought of him, of them, the lifetime already shared. "It's how long it lasts."