Nothing was simple, certainly not simplification.

There's a part of me that thinks perhaps we go on existing in a place even after we've left it.

Literature can remind us that not all life is already written down: there are still so many stories to be told.

People are good or half good or a quarter good, and it changes all the time- but even on the best day nobody's perfect.

The repeated lies become history, but they don't necessarily become the truth.

We stumble on, thinks Jaslyn, bring a little noise into the silence, find in others the ongoing of ourselves. It is almost enough.

They told me Corrigan smashed all the bones in his chest when he hit the steering wheel. I thought, Well at least in heaven his Spanish chick'll be able to reach in and grab his heart.

I'm only telling you on the truth, " he said. "If you can't stand the truth, don't ask for it.

Rather he consoled himself with the fact that, in the real world, when he looked closely into the darkness he might find the presence of a light, damaged and bruised, but a little light all the same.

That's what I like about God. You get to know Him by His occasional absence.

Pain's nothing. Pains what you give, not what you get.

Do what is uncommon

I became a physicist to understand the world, then I became a writer to try and change it.

True compassion is universal in scope. It is accompanied by a feeling of responsibility.

My father was also a principal of a school and mother was a curriculum advisor. Both were educators.

My dear girl, you don't consent to an abduction! You consent to an elopement, and I knew you wouldn't do that.

Knowing of how to make use of online tools without being overloaded with too much information is, like it or not, an essential ingredient to personal success in the twenty-first century.

His love for her was so deeply woven with resentment that he could not untangle the two.

The female doesn't want a rich man or a handsome man or even a poet, she wants a man who understands her eyes if she gets sad, and points to his chest and say : 'Here is your home country.'

Keeping love buried was a lot like jeeping anger pent up, I'd learned. It just ate you up insides until you wanted to scream or kick something.

You hear about those stories where a person is married to someone and they have another family - that's pretty much unforgivable!