Imagination runs out. But it makes sense, right? We probably just imagine things based on what we already know, and we run out of analogies in the thirty-first century.

Walking the stacks in a library, dragging your fingers across the spines -- it's hard not to feel the presence of sleeping spirits.

Neel takes a sharp breath and I know exactly what it means. It means: I have waited my whole life to walk through a secret passage built into a bookshelf.

All the secrets of the world worth knowing are hiding in plain site.

Let me give you some advice: make friends with a millionaire when he's a friendless sixth-grader.

... nothing lasts long. We all come to life and gather allies and build empires and die, all in a single moment - maybe a single pulse of some giant processor somewhere.

He asked <...> Rosemary, why do you love books so much? And I said, Well, I don't know <...> I suppose I love them because they're quiet, and I can take them to the park.

Your life must be an open city, with all sorts of ways to wander in.

Her home is the burrow of a bibliophile hobbit -- low-ceilinged, close-walled, and brimming over with books.

You know, I'm really starting to think the whole world is just a patchwork quilt of crazy little cults, all with their own secret spaces, their own records, their own rules.

A clerk and a ladder and warm golden light, and then: the right book exactly, at exactly the right time.

Colors are light's suffering and joy

And so we must dig in to see where raw words and fundamental sounds are buried so that the great silence within can finally be decoded.

Life is short and we have never too much time for gladdening the hearts of those who are travelling the dark journey with us. Oh be swift to love, make haste to be kind.

In the end, I want to be able to say, 'My life was what I made it.

If you're writing a song about a relationship ending, what you're really doing is honoring how much that person meant to you.

A quiet mind is more important than a positive mind.

That kid's got an arm like Uncle Fester at an exhibition of Pre-Colombian... um, Christ, I lost it. I was going for something thick. So what's with the beard, Grizzly Fouts?

A man's faith governs the totality of his life, or else his professed faith is not his real faith.

Fiction is empathy technology.

Repression forces your mind to be more deeply entrenched in those things from which you are trying to escape.