Which is a sad thing when you're only seventeen.

Did the destruction of one dream leave a vacuum that required filling with another? Is a broken heart more vulnerable?

You touch me again, you arrogant Ardenine swine, and I swear on the blood of Hanalea the warrior, I will geld you. Do you understand?

You do not respond to an attempt on your life with a slap on the hand. Or a joke.

Plus he was naturally lucky at cards. As Mam had always said, lucky at cards, or lucky at life. One or the other. Not both.

You didn't have to go to the fireworks with him. Or - or let him fondle you.""Fondle?" Raisa raised her eyebrows, "When did I mention fondling?

Surround yourselves with trustworthy people. If you don't, all the weaponry and tactics in the world can't save you.

Just tell me you don't love me, and I'll let the matter drop.""What?""What I said. Just say, 'Rai, I don't love you and I never will'. It's that simple.""Raisa, this is getting us nowhere.""Say it!

If someone grabs you in the street, hit hard and fast, because you may not get a second chance.

Cosmic consciousness is the next level of holistic perception.

You stand a better chance of bringing pretend to life through the power of belief than you stand any chance of erasing what's real by refusing to believe.

Just read one book a month and at the end of they year you would be totally different but an impressive personality.

Our weird problem is an abundance of resources and a shortage of hard economic reasons not to use them.

But I'd say my best boss was Tom Barr, who was a partner at Cravath, Swain & Moore in the 1960s. It's because I learned so much from him.

Hope puts up with modest gains, realizing that the longest journey starts with one step.

[Children] would have messed up my apartment. In the main, they are ungrateful. They would have siphoned too much time away from the writing of my precious books.

Peace is what every human being is craving for, and it can be brought about by humanity through the child.

No matter how deep and dark your pit, how dank your shroud, their heads are heroically unbloody and unbowed.

Death have we hated, knowing not what it meant; Life we have loved, through green leaf and through sere, Though still the less we knew of its intent.