sometimes the human race likes to crank things up a little. They increase the production of bodies and their escaping souls.

A snowball in the face is surely the perfect beginning to a lasting friendship.

Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day.

If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter.

Often I wish this would all be over, Liesel, but then somehow you do something like walk down the basement steps with a snowman in your hands.

I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.

I guess humans like to watch a little destruction. Sand castles, houses of cards, that's where they begin. Their great skills is their capacity to escalate.

No matter how many times she was told that she was loved, there was no recognition that the proof was in the abandonment.

It was the beginning of the greatest Christmas ever. Little food. No presents. But there was a snowman in their basement.

As always, one of her books was next to her.

If you can't imagine it, think clumsy silence. Think bits and pieces of floating despair. And drowning in a train.

Hope is never lost more than we are

Revenge. Justice. Love. They are the three stories that all other stories are made up of. It's the trifecta.

The sketch hunter moves through life as he finds it, not passing negligently the things he loves, but stopping to know them, and to note them down in the shorthand of his sketchbook.

Maybe I'm wrong

The mind is but too naturally prone to pleasure, but too easily yielded to dissipation

I have tried to do what is true and not ideal.

The little that is completed, vanishes from the sight of one who looks forward to what is still to do.

The silence between two notes is as beautiful and meaningful as the notes themselves.

Perfer et obdura; dolor hic tibi proderit olim. Have patience and endure; this unhappiness will one day be beneficial.

How do we know that anything really exists, that anything is really the way it seems ot us through our senses?