Write what you know, and what do you know better than your own secrets?

there isn't enough of anything as long as we live. But at intervals a sweetness appears and, given a chance prevails.

Life and death matters, yes. And the question of how to behave in this world, how to go in the face of everything. Time is short and the water is rising.

That's all we have, finally, the words, and they had better be the right ones.

Write about what you know, and what do you know better than your own secrets?

And what did you want? To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth.

I could hear my heart beating. I could hear everyone's heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark.

It ought to make us feel ashamed when we talk like we know what we're talking about when we talk about love.

The places where water comes together with other water. Those places stand out in my mind like holy places.

Dreams, you know, are what you wake up from.

But I can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting, crossing one leg and then the other. I feel like I could throw off sparks, or break a window--maybe rearrange all the furniture.

When love intoxicates your heart, it is difficult for your soul to remain sober.

Yet there’s no one to beat you | No one t’ defeat you | ’Cept the thoughts of yourself feeling bad

Let us continue to improve until we are filled with the knowledge of the truth. We have yet much to learn.

She been looking like a queen in a sailor's dream.

I mean, when you grow up in the inner city and you grow up in a single-parent household, that's - those are humbling times, you know?

You shy, Francesca?” Javier asks me later on. I shake my head. “Not really.” I’m just sad, I want to say. And I’m lonely.

I can't very well preach unity and tell the guys we're all in this together and everyone's important, then cut a guy because we might improve by one percent if we bring in someone else.

I don’t deny that there can be an element of escapism in mountaineering, but this should never overshadow its real essence, which is not escape but victory over your own human frailty.

The studios mostly threw away the negatives of the classic films. They had no interest in their legacy.

Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile