She always had that about her, that look of otherness, of eyes that see things much too far, and of thoughts that wander off the edge of the world.

Happiness. Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive.

It isn't just a village. The houses aren't just places to live. Everything belongs to everybody. Everyone belongs to everyone else. Even a single person can make a difference.

I let it go. It's like swimming against the current. It exhausts you. After a while, whoever you are, you just have to let go, and the river brings you home.

A man may plant a tree for a number of reasons. Perhaps he likes trees. Perhaps he wants shelter. Or perhaps he knows that someday he may need the firewood.

I've never been very good at leaving things behind. I tried, but I have always left fragments of myself there too, like seeds awaiting their chance to grow.

I have an advanced degree in procrastination and another one in paranoia.

Some people spend the whole of their lives sitting waiting for one train, only to find that they never even made it to the station.

Life is what you celebrate. All of it. Even its end.

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

Places have their own characters. . . . But the people begin to look the same.

True evil is always petty and often incompetent.

Death is not the only possible outcome.

Few seem to be able to eat a turkey leg at Disneyland without splattering tsunami scale grease, so grab plenty of napkins or wear a bib, tablecloth or scuba suit.

I love writing. I've always written journals. I loved writing the book on living alone.

When one has success, the answer is not to undo that success. It is to continue what has been done.

The Flutie Bowl is a great event that brings together people who really care about the autism community. We always have a great time bowling and playing music.

The true genius shudders at incompleteness - and usually prefers silence to saying something which is not everything it should be.

O truth divine! enlightened by thy ray, I grope and guess no more, but see my way.

It's not a one time heroic moment but is living each day with bravery.

The soul has illusions as the bird has wings: it is supported by them.