Imagination is a place where all the important answers live.

And it's exactly what's wrong with the radio. It's like...anything that tries to appeal to everybody always ends up sounding so cheap.

The city glitters past us with its sharp edges, reminding us of how tiny, how weak, how totally unimportant we are.

When she cries, it is quiet, tearless, almost completely imperceptible: one more unheard prayer.

The most important things in your life are almost always impossible to predict.

The longer human beings exist, it seems, the less likely we are to choose to be brave.

Maybe that's why people have friends at all. Not because they like them so much but because they don't make them feel so much worse.

Beneath all of her thoughts and worries, beneath the complication of conflicting identities and needs, maybe it's as simple as loving the way some other person looks when they're sleeping.

The world of evil is only as evil as we allow it to be.

Our worlds are so momentary. We are along all our lives and then go off that way as well.

Maybe it was better to just go on believing everything was OK, even when really bad things were just about to happen.

Time erodes people, and when you are old enough you weigh nothing. It's comforting to know that I will never be as frail.

If you press me to say why I loved him I can say no more than because he was he and I was I.

I'm pretty intense when it comes to relationships, platonic ones as well. If I feel a connection with someone, I'm willing to go there.

I want to write for history, not for the moment.

We are always children to our mothers.

I'm scared. I'm excited. I'm ready for whatever happens but I think that fame is what comes along with the territory when you open yourself up and become this story, this book for anyone to read.

The writer considers sayability before anything else.

When another person makes you suffer, it is because he suffers deeply within himself, and his suffering is spilling over. He does not need punishment; he needs help. That's the message he is sending.

What matters most is not what I think I am or am not. What matters is what my Father sees in me and what He says about me.

Pride is both a virtue and a vice.