Every parent has those moments where they look at their child and think, 'There's a demon in those eyes and no one can see it but me!

The great thing about a short story is that it doesn't have to trawl through someone's whole life; it can come in glancingly from the side.

The world is always changing brightness and hotness and soundness, I never know how it's going to be the next minute.

Scared is what you're feeling. Brave is what you're doing.

I look back one more time. It's like a crater, a hole where something happened.

Ma's still nodding. "You're the one who matters, though. Just you." I shake my head till it's wobbling because there's no just me.

It’s called mind over matter. If we don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” When a bit of me hurts, I always mind.

Books are the air I breathe, so I don't notice the seasons.

If I was made of cake I'd eat myself before somebody else could.

I remember manners, that's when people are scared to make other persons mad.

When I tell her what I’m thinking and she tells me what she’s thinking, our each ideas jumping into the other’s head, like coulouring blue crayon on top of yellow that makes green.

Don't just create art to make money. Make money so you can create more art. (Exchange any words you want for 'create art' and see if it fits).

All you need do, Bernie, ”she gulped her toast soaked in coffee, “is present the truth as fiction.

Communicators need to figure out how well do they engage people, and they should not talk one word longer than people are engaged.

The only way you can get experience is from the clock. Time works with some people and against some people. Fortunately, the clock has worked in my favor.

Find your soul and you'll live. Lose your soul and you'll die.

Later in life, the memories I have of my mother are of constant work balanced with caring for my ailing father.

Making music should not be left to the professionals.

Pastors started killing their church members and church members killed pastors. Husbands killed wives. It's a situation no one can describe.

The body on the ground is nothing more than a shell, a husk, and I am filled with a sense of peace. Yes, I think. Yes. This is what I want to be. An instrument of mercy, not vengeance.

There is none made so great, but he may both need the help and service, and stand in fear of the power and unkindness, even of the meanest of mortals.