Inside all of us is a light, but some beacons are darker than others, and some are so dark they never realize they are a form of light at all.

History is the lie. History's words stain otherwise pristine books, drops of inky poison frosted in sugared deception.

Only the dead remember the truth.

The tear-stained letters of my regret will remain forever unread, for I am never going to be strong enough to give them to you.

We are meant to love. We are meant to lose. Love is our promise of a bittersweet end, and our desperate, hopeless struggle not to hurt anyone along the way.

What is it like to be so free - so trapped, but so free? What kind of bird sings only when caught? What kind of slave outshines and rises above her master?

Innocence has no place alongside immortality.

Take Care of Yourself First- It’s Easier to Serve Others That Way.

There hasn't been any art yet. Art is just beginning.

Work is most fulfilling when you're at the comfortable, exciting edge of not quite knowing what you are doing.

Most quarrels amplify a misunderstanding.

Imagination comes from yourself and can deceive you, but vision is a gift from outside yourself - like light striking on your closed eyelids and lifting them to see what's really there.

Long before I wrote stories, I listened for stories.

What we are is seldom what we want to be, while what we want to be is either denied us or changes with the seasons.

There is a certain phase in the life of the aged when the warmth of the heart seems to increase in direct proportion with the years.

How do you get rid of the trash? It's out there in society, it's going on every day. You can educate children an awful lot easier than you can get rid of the trash.

Maybe we should raise our voices, ask somebody why. But demonstrations are a drag, besides we're much too high.