I didn’t think it was my job to accept what everyone said I was and who I should be.

The summer sun was not meant for boys like me. Boys like me belonged to the rain.

Another secret of the universe: Sometimes pain was like a storm that came out of nowhere. The clearest summer could end in a downpour. Could end in lightning and thunder.

I wondered if my smile was as big as hers. Maybe as big. But not as beautiful.

Water was something he loved, something he respected. He understood its beauty and its dangers. He talked about swimming as if it were a way of life.

I bet you could sometimes find all the mysteries of the universe in someone's hand.

How could I have ever been ashamed of loving Dante Quintana?

The day he came home from the hospital, he cried. I held him. I thought he would never stop.I knew that a part of him would never be the same.They cracked more than his ribs.

You can’t expect to go both ways when you’re driving on a one-way street.

It started to rain and we just sat. Sat and watched the rain in silence.

Everyone was always becoming someone else.Sometimes, when you were older, you became someone younger. And me, I felt old. How can aguy who’s about to turn seventeen feel old?

Have patience. You will eventually lose sight of what you truly deserve if you get too fixed on grabbing any stuff quickly. Things that last don't grow easy.

My philosophy is that not only are you responsible for your life, but doing the best at this moment puts you I the best place for the next moment.

I believe and I say it is true Democratic feeling, that all the measures of the Government are directed to the purpose of making the rich richer and the poor poorer.

For a country to have a great writer is like having a second government. That is why no regime has ever loved great writers, only minor ones.

Gertrude Stein was masterly in making nothing happen very slowly

I cannot stand public attention, I just can't. Of course, if I may I might write something instead

I thought that a man can be an enemy of other men, of the moments of other men, but not of a country: not of fireflies, words, gardens, streams of water, sunsets.

The market is not a place, a thing, or a collective entity. The market is a process, actuated by the interplay of the actions of the various individuals cooperating under the division of labor.

Cats be talkin', "Bobby I ain't feelin' ya." But I bet if I was peelin' your cap back with a two-shot Dillinger Hot lead released from my cylinder, You'd be talkin' 'bout, "Bobby I'm feelin' ya!"

As soon as you truly commit to making something happen, the 'how' will reveal itself.