And the needles of the pine trees, freshly washed to a deep, rich green, shimmered with droplets that blinked like clear crystals.

...tell them that we have some good in us, too. And the only thing worth living for is the good. That’s why we’ve got to make sure we pass it on.

Home is the place that'll catch you when you fall. And we all fall.

Come on, Forney.' Novalee, it's a parasite.' But it's a tradition.' It's a parasite! And you expect people yo stand under it and kiss?' Yes! it's what people do with mistletoe.

She always set three alarms for fear that the first employees to arrive would discover her sleeping - a Goldilocks without her bears

Our lives can change with every breath we take.

You ever think about this? Every year you live, you pass the anniversary of your death. Now you don't know what day it is, of course.

Home gives you something no other place can... your history. Home is where your history begins.

Never act like you want it, darlin'. Act like you wouldn't own it if they paid you. Tell them it's dirty, broken...a useless thing. Then make an offer.

Novalee watched his lips shape the words...the sounds, like whispered secrets, hanging in the air.

Only Certain offered no enticements, for she knew nothing could ease the pain. Not books or photography or food. Not even love.

If you are really angry, then you must be willing to pay the price of being alone or be remanded for someone else to have their freedom, illumination and justice.

When you see the world through your mind, you are very judgmental. See the world through your heart and be non-judgmental.

The beauty of words!

Science does not know its debt to imagination.

Our sense of power is more vivid when we break a man's spirit than when we win his heart.

The fly sat upon the axel-tree of the chariot-wheel and said, 'What a dust do I raise!'

The Canadian middle class is under less pressure than any other middle class in any developed country on the planet. So they feel good. They feel optimistic. They feel secure.

I didn't have much of a life in crime as a graffiti writer.

The men and women of the North are slaveholders, those of the South slaveowners. The guilt rests on the North equally with the South.

I realized that all animals, not just dogs and cats and horses, were sentient beings; therefore, I just couldn't say I love animals and then eat them.