Later - when things happened that they could never have imagined - she wrote him a letter that said: When will you learn that there isn't a word for everything

...we take comfort in the symmetries we find in life because they suggest a design where there is none.

Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.

there are two types of people in the world: those who prefer to be sad among others, and those who prefer to be sad alone.

What about you? Are you happiest and saddest right now that you've ever been?" "Of course I am." "Why?" "Because nothing makes me happier and nothing makes me sadder than you.

She struggled with her sadness, but tried to conceal it, to divide it into smaller and smaller parts and scatter these in places she thought no one would find them.

To hike out alone in the desert; to sleep on the valley floor on a night with no moon, in the pitch black, just listening to the boom of silence: you can't imagine what that's like.

That's what I do. Watch movies and read. Sometimes I even pretend to write, but I'm not fooling anyone. Oh, and I go to the mailbox.

When will you learn that there isn't a word for everything?

I've reached the age where bruises are formed from failures within rather than accidents without.

So many words get lost. They leave the mouthand lose their courage, wandering aimlessly until they are swept into the gutter like dead leaves. On rainy days you can hear their chorus rushing past.

Spirituality is not an achievement it is a relationship.

You've got nothing to be worried about, " he whispers slowly, his breath hot against my cheek, "because, baby, I'm all yours.

I'm looking more like my dogs every day - it must be the shaggy fringe and the ears.

Where are the Muslim people's sponsors? Where are its kings? Where are its leaders? The Muslim people is calling upon you, Jerusalem is appealing to you, will anyone answer?

There are probably seven persons, in all, who really like my work; and they are enough. I should write even if I were the only patient reader, for my aim is merely self-expression.

Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares!

I suppose I like to give people something to talk and think about. I can just be the person that kind of put a message in the bottle to see where it ends up.

Official truth is not actual truth.

Life is a constant challenge to know oneself.

Compared with what we ought to be, we are only half awake. Our fires are damped, our drafts are checked. We are making use of only a small part of our possible mental and physical resources.