My own background is fairly liberal and so this notion of 'protecting women from outside intrusion' is not in my nature, nor in my upbringing.

Attention shifted to him like sunflowers turning to the sun.

hills that stand soft and a sky that stands high and blue, and the sun setting behind a windmill, and always, always, hazy strings of mountains that fall and fall away on the horizon.

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.

And that's the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too.

A man who has no conscience, no goodness, does not suffer.

Nothing good came free. Even love. You paid for all things. And if you were poor, suffering was your currency.

But time, it is like charm. You never have as much as you think.

The desert weed lives on, but the flower of spring blooms and wilts.

I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.

Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life. Silence is pushing the off button. Shutting it down. All of it.

Sometimes you meet a person and you just click--you're comfortable with them, like you've known them your whole life and you don't have to pretend to be anyone or anything.

The Divine Thing that made itself the foundation of the Church does not seem, to judge by his comments on the religious leadership of his day, to have hoped much from officers of a church.

The photograph is a coarse fraud, and seems to delight only in taking the whole beauty out of the picture.

The reason I do small, independent movies is because I want to keep my soul intact and maintain some kind of integrity within this industry.

The landscape of my childhood was one of fierce occupation by trees.

I'm not the type to cut back on hot showers, but there's no harm in hot water when it's warmed by the sun.

Children enjoy inflicting pain until unhappiness teaches them tenderness.

It is the mark of a primitive society to view regression as progress.

During the Gold Rush, most would-be miners lost money, but people who sold them picks, shovels, tents and blue-jeans (Levi Strauss) made a nice profit.

I am under the direction of messengers from Heaven daily and nightly.