It was as if I were writing letters to hold together the pieces of my crumbling life.

Unclose your mind. You are not a prisoner. You are a bird in flight, searching the skies for dreams.

I have a million things to talk to you about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk. I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning.

No matter how far you travel, you can never get away from yourself.

Say it before you run out of time. Say it before it's too late. Say what you're feeling. Waiting is a mistake.

I probably still haven’t completely adapted to the world. I don’t know, I feel like this isn’t the real world. The people, the scene: they just don’t seem real to me.

But if you knew you might not be able to see it again tomorrow, everything would suddenly become special and precious, wouldn’t it?

The answer is dreams. Dreaming on and on. Entering the world of dreams and never coming out. Living in dreams for the rest of time.

When I first met you, I felt a kind of contradiction in you. You’re seeking something, but at the same time, you are running away for all you’re worth.

When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.

I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it -- to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once.

Expand your world. (Stories about wizards and spells) are very frequently about power relationships...

Reason is the beheaded king, emotion the slave revolt

People who use snark attacks confuse cleverness with cruelty.

The real secret of success is enthusiasm. Yes more than enthusiasm I would say excitement. I like to see men get excited. When they get excited they make a success of their lives.

I've never even done a residency.

Even the good angels, I think, would inspire in humans some sort of fear.

By watching the mechanics of the mind, you step out of its resistance patterns, and you can then allow the present moment to be.

There is a working class - strong and happy - among both rich and poor: there is an idle class - weak, wicked, and miserable - among both rich and poor.

It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want—oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!

Oh, I remember how beautiful you were. You didn't have any hair. You were such a bald little booger, I thought I was going to have to save up to buy you a toupee.