The same substance composes us--the tree overhead, the stone beneath us, the bird, the beast, the star--we are all one, all moving to the same end.

The Irish, as a race, have the oral tradition in their blood. A direct question to them is an anathema, but in other cases, a mere syllable of a hero's name will elicit whole chapters of stories.

Don't you know that everybody's got a Fairyland of their own?

There’s great beauty on this world if you just have the eyes to see it.

All of us are subject to being passive to the social ills around us. It's a struggle not to become, by staying silent, an accomplice.

A writer is, after all, only half his book. The other half is the reader and from the reader the writer learns.

More and more I’ve become convinced that the great treasure to possess is the unknown.

Child and serpent, star and stone — all one.

If we are going to teach the world to stop hating the different, the other, then we’re going to have to start with children.

Once we have accepted the story we cannot escape the story's fate.

Tea is balm for the soul, don't you agree?

Being wrong opens us up to the possibility of change. Being wrong brings the opportunity for growth.

If you are untrustworthy, people will not trust you.

I've always had a 'Work hard, play hard' attitude to life - I still do - but sometimes you get involved in something that needs a calm, methodical approach.

You know, one had as good be out of the world, as out of the fashion.

You know There are moments when silence, prolonged and unbroken, More expressive may be than all words ever spoken.

I have four or five ideas that just keep floating around and I want to kind of just let one - like a beautiful butterfly, let it land somewhere.

To that which is born, death is certain; to that which is dead, birth is certain.

The apprentice realist uses line as a net to capture his prey, an imitation of reality. But soon he becomes enchanted with line as a thing. It becomes a servant of his pleasure.

You just have to follow your own heart.

The morphlings from District 6 are in the camouflage station, painting each other's faces with bright pink swirls.