Modern music is three farts and a raspberry, orchestrated.

You know why conductors live so long? Because we perspire so much.

Ladies of the choir, I want you to sound like twenty-two women having babies without chloroform.

Crazy. It was the same word María and Tía Rosa flung at Grandpa Lázaro. The same word anyone said when they didn't understand something. "Crazy" was a way to shut people up, disregard them entirely.

Not only is there no God, but try finding a plumber on Sunday.

Downworld?" Tessa echoed, puzzled. "Is that a place in London?" "Never mind that," said Will. "I'm boasting of my investigative skills, and I would prefer to do it without interruption.

Real love doesn't seek to acquire. It gives itself away. Its very nature is that of surrender, service, and generosity.

I don't think secrets are a bad thing. I think there's this idea that everything needs to be transparent in order for it to be free.

You say the sweetest things. And that spaghetti perfume you're wearing is to die for. No hobo could resist." She snarled. Heh.

Those dreams that on the silent night intrude, and with false flitting shapes our minds delude ... are mere productions of the brain. And fools consult interpreters in vain.

I don’t think any man writing can worry about what the act of writing costs him, even though at times he is very aware of it.

The prerequisite for receiving the grace of God is to know you need it.

The mind is the pilot. We think of things before the body does them.