Sometimes when you open the door to the past, what you confront is your destiny.

I have always been a reader; I have read at every stage of my life, and there has never been a time when reading was not my greatest joy

I don't pretend reality is the same for everyone.

Once upon a time there was a fairy godmother, but the rest of the time there was none. This story is about one of those other times.

For me to see is to read. It has always been that way.

Of course I loved books more than people.

Boys do not leave their boyhood behind when they leave off their school uniform.

A good story is always more dazzling than a broken piece of truth.

But silence is not a natural environment for stories. They need words. Without them they grown pale, sicken and die. And then they haunt you.

When I was a child, books were everything. And so there is in me, always, a nostalgic, yearning for the lost pleasure of books. It is not a yearning that one ever expects to be fulfilled.

A story so cherished it has to be dressed in casualness to disguise its significance in case the listener turned out to be unsympathetic.

Don’t fellowship with people around you alone, explore and reach out to more people

The only thing your life teaches you is how to live your life. And that’s only if you’re very lucky. And you listen very hard.

I lost some weight, grew my hair and now every woman in America over 40 wants to date me. It's their daughters I want to convince.

I use a pick in my hair without force. You use a lawn mower-you got peat moss.

The more I go inside, the more there is to see.

I support special forces. I support trainers. I support the air campaign. And I think we're making some progress. I want to continue to intensify that, and that's exactly what the president is doing.

It seems the more I think about not sinning, the more I sin, but the more I think about just loving Jesus, the less I seem to sin. Falling in love seems to be the key.

It's just trying everyday to do the best you can and to enjoy what you have with the mixture of the venue and the sound and the crowd.

The creative act is not pure. History evidences it. Sociology extracts it. The writer loses Eden, writes to be read and comes to realize that he is answerable.

The fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, by the moon.