Man has reached the moon, but twenty centuries ago a poet knew the enchantments that would make the moon come down to earth.

All profound distraction opens certain doors. You have to allow yourself to be distracted when you are unable to concentrate.

In quoting others, we cite ourselves.

Memory is a mirror that scandalously lies.

Wordplay hides a key to reality that the dictionary tries in vain to lock inside every free word.

(memory is) A strange echo, which stores its replicas according to some other acoustic than consciousness or expectation.

The modern story begun, one might say, with Edgar Allan Poe, which proceeds inexorably, like a machine destined to accomplish its mission with the maximum economy of means.

We no longer believe because it is absurd: it is absurd because we must believe.

For me the thing that signals a great story is what we might call its autonomy, the fact that it detaches itself from its author like a soap bubble blown from a clay pipe.

I think it is vanity to want to put into a story anything but the story itself.

The more a book is like an opium pipe, the more the Chinaman reader is satisfied with it and tends to discuss the quality of the drug rather than its lethargic effects.

I believe the Universe desires for us to choose to love as much as possible while we are here.

Prayer makes your heart bigger, until it is capable of containing the gift of God himself. Prayer begets faith, faith begets love, and love begets service on behalf of the poor.

To be honest, I don't think I'm the best role model in the world. I'm pretty immature sometimes.

We cherish the chance to say thank you in person to Cpl. Frank Buckles.

Writing a novel is like heading out over the open sea in a small boat. It helps, if you have a plan and a course laid out.

What's important now? - To evaluate the past, focus on the future, and tell you what you have to do in the present

I thought about all the people that told me I couldn't do it and told me I couldn't get there.

The aster greets us as we pass With her faint smile.

You stopped looking for the truth...I'd guess that's a sin we've all been guilty of.

The primal duties shine aloft, like stars; The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless, Are scattered at the feet of Man, like flowers.