It's coming, a battle between Starclan and The Dark Forest and every warrior will be called upon to fight.

Well, I'm more lopsided than a one-legged badger.

Silverstream: You idiot!!! What are you doing in my territory??? Graystripe:...Drowning? Silverstream: Can't you do that in your own territory? Graystripe: Ah, but who would rescue me there?

We all have our flaws. But we overcome them. And sometimes, it's our flaws that make us who we are.

"Welcome to our camp!" Blackstar called, beckoning them with his tail. "Rest here and take your pick of the fresh-kill pile." "Who are you and what have you done with Blackstar?" Lionblaze muttered.

Think you have nine lives, do you? I saved you once.... don't make me save you again.

Keep your eyes open, Fireheart. Keep your ears pricked. Keep looking behind you. Because one day I'll find you, and then you'll be crowfood.

You're a medicine cat. I understand what that means now. StarClan go with you, Leafpool. I'll never forget you.

He was desperate to tell his news to some other cat; he almost felt that if a mouse crossed his path he would stop to inform it that it was about to be eaten by a ThunderClan deputy.

You're going to find Tigerstar. Against that fiend, every cat is helpless.

Graystripe pushed past Tigerheart and Whitestorm and crouched beside his old friend. "I would have taken your place if you had let me". His voice was hoarse with grief.

Love life, Live Love

We experience happiness on a sensory level that is relatively short-lived. But lasting happiness is related to our state of mind.

Love for one another will create peaceful co-existence.

No thoroughly occupied man was ever yet very miserable.

The little and short sayings of nice And excellent men are of great value, like the dust of gold, or the least sparks of diamonds.

While working in advertising, I channelled my creative energy into elaborate escape fantasies: cake making, dog breeding, the Peace Corps.

Life ain't a concept. Music is not a concept. My titles are poetic abstractions of something that is with me all the time, not necessarily in music, but in life. Everybody's life.

Man keeps inventing things all the time.

If a novel or a story works, you don't stop thinking about it; it doesn't truly end.

Sovereign of beauty, like the spray she grows;Compass'd she is with thorns and canker'd bower.Yet, were she willing to be pluck'd and worn,She would be gather'd, though she grew on thorn.