I like a world where each of us has the tools to be able to make able to make our own decisions.

Our bodies like rhythm and our brains like melody and harmony.

A bowl of pudding only has taste when I put it in my mouth - when it is in contact with my tongue. It doesn't have taste or flavor sitting in my fridge, only the potential.

The constant nagging in your mind of undone things pulls you out of the present--tethers you to a mind-set of the future so that you're never fully in the moment and enjoying what's now.

The most fundamental principle of the organized mind, the one most critical to keeping us from forgetting or losing things, is to shift the burden of organizing from our brains to the external world.

The first forms of writing emerged not for art, literature, or love, not for spiritual or liturgical purposes, but for business--all literature could be said to originate from sales receipts (sorry).

No other species lives with regret over past events, or makes deliberate plans for future ones.

Another possibility is that evolution selected creativity in general as a marker of sexual fitness.

What makes a set of lines and colors into art is the relationship between this line and that one; the way one color or form echoes another in a different part of the canvas.

The amount of scientific information we've discovered in the last twenty years is more than all the discoveries up to that point, from the beginning of language.

Librarians are more important than ever before ... are uniquely qualified to help all of us separate the digital wheat from the chaff, to help us understand the reliability of the data we encounter.

You'll never get to the happily ever after if you don't move past the current chapter...

I could sooner reconcile all Europe than two women.

A school’s job [is] to begin education.

Everyone was laughin'. Even that deaf mute boy was breathing heavy and pointing at me. Which is laughter to their kind.

You are the sky. The clouds are what happens, what comes and goes.

But you were only sixteen and not far off from the truth, as only sixteen-year-olds can be.

Everyone has flaws. It's a matter of finding the ones you can live with.

There's just nothing funnier than, like, a guy awkwardly explaining to another guy that he's hurt his feelings, and then later, awkwardly, you know, forgiving him for doing that.

He loved her, he loved her, and until he'd loved her she had never minded being alone.

Stop thinking for once in your life!