The stars were extra bright tonight, and they shone and glimmered as if each one had something it wanted to say.

This was a cruel world she had been born into, all pink and squirming. She'd never wanted to see reality. Now, like the cold, it was impossible to ignore.

But that night in her dream she flew high above the earth in a moonless sky. Behind her, like a falling star, sailed a silver sled.

How unlucky she was--born with adventurous hooves that were stuck inside a pen. But she wasn't giving up. If there was a way out, Flora said to herself, she would find it.

I think we're all aiming to be something better than what everyone thinks we were born to be

You'll never make it out there. You weren't made for South Pole adventures." Flora gave her an icy look. "I think I know by now what I was made for.

Cats may have nine lives, but pigs . . . don't . . . give . . . up.

Oh that looked painful, " called another Puck, a little farther down. "We really need to talk about your anger-management problems.

You have to have a catcher because if you don't you're likely to have a lot of passed balls.

Also, perhaps children are sterner than grown-up people in their refusal to suffer, in their refusal, even, to feel at all.

Today, the army only occupies the territory once the war is over.

The pure mind is itself Brahman; it therefore follows that Brahman is not other than the mind of the sage.

Baseball’s absolute unpredictability makes amateurs of us all.

Jeff Ross has a new show on Comedy Central where he roasts the news. It'll be perfect for people who find Jon Stewart too handsome and funny.

Your room is not your prison. You are.

My platform might be a little bigger than someone else's, but everyone has a purpose. For me, that purpose in my life right now is soccer. There's a cool, personal testimony that goes along with it.