For me, at least, fiction is the only way i can even begin to twist my lying memories into something true.

Some tourists think Amsterdam is a city of sin, but in truth it is a city of freedom. And in freedom, most people find sin.

Amsterdam is like the rings of a tree: It gets older as you get closer to the center.

I feel like crying, so I must be crying, but it's impossible to tell because I'm underwater.

...And in freedom, most people find sin.

So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.

A taste so profound and complex that it can't even be compared to other tastes, only to emotions. Cheesy waffles, I was thinking, tastes like love without the fear of love's dissolution.

My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations.

The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive.

All those paper people living in their paper houses, burning the future to stay warm.

I would always love Alaska Young, my crooked neighbor, with all my crooked heart.

The sole duty of a man is to love his Maker with all his soul.

Virtue, should there be anyone who still ignores the fact, always finds pitfalls on the extremely difficult path of perfection, but sin and vice are so favoured by fortune...

Worry doesn't help tomorrow's troubles but it does ruin today's happiness.

Every day I do something that freaks me out.

Any woodthrush shows it - he sings, not to fill the world, but because he is filled.

When I was young, I kept a diary for about 10 years and I had to write in it every day. Even on days when nothing seemed to happen, I made myself think of something to put in it.

I just think I'm fairly aggressive.

Death left its old tragic heaven and became the lyrical core of man: his invisible truth, his visible secret.

True joy results when we become aware of our connectedness to everything.

The horse is your mirror. He never flatters you. He reflects your temperament. He also reflects your ups and downs. Don’t ever be angry with your horse: you might as well be angry with your mirror.