I think the we all drown, in one way or another.

Accidents happen. Our bones shatter, our skin splits, our hearts break. We burn, we drown, we stay alive.

I am afraid of everybody else's secrets

There's this magical place, ' he says with mock solemnity, 'called a library--I don't know if you've heard of it, but they have books, and also newspaper, and back issues of newspapers...

I think that we all drown, in one way or another.

We bite back the things we can't say and we cushion every surface for the inevitable moment when they all come fighting out.

Every first is a loss.

In the ghost house in the last days of the accident season, we were never going to die.

So let’s raise our glass to the accident season, To the river beneath us where we sink our souls, To the bruises and secrets, to the ghosts in the ceiling, One more drink for the watery road.

Faith is a knowledge of the benevolence of God toward us and a certain persuasion of His veracity.

A consistent soul believes in destiny, a capricious one in chance.

College is like a fountain of knowledge - and the students are there to drink

As men of the priesthood, we have an essential role to play in society, at home, and in the Church. But we must be men that women can trust, that children can trust, and that God can trust.

I'm going back to my parrot head friends.

Words matter, and the right words matter most of all. In the end they're all that remain of us.

If you're gonna be two-faced at least make one of them pretty.

Warmth isn't what minimalists are thought to have.

Human memory works its own wheel, and stops where it will, entirely without reference to the last stop, and with no connection with the next.

Many that are not mad have, sure, more lack of reason.