If it weren't my life, I wouldn't have believed it.

If the thrill of hunting were in the hunt, or even in the marksmanship, a camera would do just as well.

You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.

Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living.

The sky slowly pulled up its blue dress to reveal night.

The more you love someone, he came to think, the harder it is to tell them. It surprised him that strangers didn't stop each other on the street to say I love you.

His voice was handsome and broken, like a cobblestone street.

To feel alone is to be alone.

Words are capable of making experience more vivid, and also of organizing it. They can scare us, and they can comfort us.

When we eat factory-farmed meat we live, literally, on tortured flesh. Increasingly, that tortured flesh is becoming our own.

It has shown me that everything is illuminated in the light of the past. It is always along the side of us...on the inside, looking out.

We ought to make the moments notes Of happy glad Thanksgiving; The hours and days, a silent praise Of music we are living.

As much as life can suck, it always beats the alternative.

Because I am a storyteller I live by words. Perhaps music is a purer art form. It may be that when we communicate with life on another planet, it will be through music, not through language or words.

My best inorganic friend is science!

You will get the most attention from those who hate you. No friend, no admirer and no partner will flatter you with as much curiosity.

Fifty per cent of the public doesn't know what 'fifty per cent' means.

I have been in love with the thought of Heraclitus.

The form I most enjoy writing is the sonnet or sonnet-like forms, where you have a - you know, three stanzas or two stanzas that lead into a concluding couplet.

So I started home schooling. I was a little freaked out about that, because I' m such a social person, involved in everything. It was awesome. I loved it and I loved being home.

Look, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east! Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tip-toe on the misty mountain-tops.