I'm not interested in writing for adults. I like them as people! I don't like the way they publish books in that world. Nothing ever gets a chance.

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.

I was quite possibly in the midst of losing my mind. I needed to get away from people until I figured out if I actually was losing my mind.

Western civilization, unfortunately, does not link knowledge and morality but rather, it connects knowledge and power and makes them equivalent.

Whats the worst that could happen?! The worst that could happen is he could cut off your legs and use them to make stilts that look like legs!

Haste and escape for your lives, look not behind you, escape to the mountain, lest you be consumed.

I may not remember my name or what country I live in, but you and that pie is something I will never forget.

Every thing is changing every minute.

Great talkers do not stop for breath, and never look at the clock.

While sleeping in a hammock, with the touch of a warm wind we remember why we are in love with the life!

The power of music that poetry lacks is the ability to persuade without argument.

A certain recluse, I know not who, once said that no bonds attached him to this life, and the only thing he would regret leaving was the sky.