No guilt or anger or longing changes that.

I know I wrote letters to people with no address on this earth, I know that you are dead. But I hear you. I hear all of you. We were here. Our lives matter.

Sometimes your music sounds like there’s too much inside you. Maybe even you couldn’t get it all out. Maybe that’s why you died. Like you exploded from the inside.

I don´t know anyone who has a perfect family to start with. And I think that´s why we make up our own. regular weirdos together. I feel that way about my friends.

People love you for what they want to see in you, not for what you are. That's a sad thing to learn.

Words can't be wood enough for a lot of things. But you know, I guess we have to try.

If beauty is truth, and truth is beauty, they are defined by each other, so how do we know the meaning of either?

There are a lot of human experiences that challenge the limits of our language.

For the shadows to stop growing. For people to stop being angry.

How could she just leave me here to live without her? I miss her so much. I love her. I want her to grow up and become who she was meant to be. I wanted her to grow up with me.

It seemed everyone knew their place in it, but I was in the mood where I would rather be alone and look a houseplants.

A weak mind complains about everything and loves nothing. A strong mind complains about nothing and loves everything.

When a person is engaged, dedication to their craft, desire to achieve, and relentless commitment to make a difference is palpable. You can see it, hear it, and feel it…and it is contagious!

Our popular music talks constantly about love, and yet divorce rates skyrocket.

Sometimes, " he sighed, "I think the things I remember are more real than the things I see.

What we are not changing, we are choosing.

We all know we're going to die. We're all circling the drain. Some of us are closer than others. I'm 90, I know I'm closer to the drain than most people.

There is strength deep bedded in our hearts, of which we reck but little till the shafts of heaven have pierced its fragile dwelling. Must not earth be rent before her gems are found?

A single woman, of good fortune, is always respectable, and may be as sensible and pleasant as any body else.

Writing a novel is like an amusement park or a museum or a city. You go into that place and you have certain experiences and those experiences, hopefully, have some impact on you.

If ... it is not in my power to arrive at the knowledge of any truth, I may at least do what is in my power, namely, suspend judgement.