That's what makes best friends. It's not whether or not you live on the same block or go to the same school, but how you feel about each other in your hearts.

There is something so deeply visceral about libraries for me-rooms and rooms full of people dreaming and remembering.

Diversity is about all of us, and about us having to figure out how to walk through this world together.

But on paper, things can live forever. On paper, a butterfly never dies.

People are going to judge you all the time no matter what you do...Don't worry about other people. Worry about you.

I do believe that books can change lives and give people this kind of language they wouldn't have had otherwise.

I believe in one day and someday and this perfect moment called Now.

Even the silence has a story to tell you. Just listen. Listen.

The empty swing set reminds us of this-- that bad won't be bad forever, and what is good can sometimes last a long, long time.

I feel like the world stopped. And I got off...and then it started spinning again, but too fast for me to hop back on. I feel like I'm still trying to get a...to get some kind of foothold on living

In all your getting, get understanding.

Where is miracle? None they can’t see.Where is hope? I only see light on the sea.

Words mean nothing. Action is the only thing. Doing. That's the only thing.

A real writer [...] looks not in another writer but himself.

I will have faith that, though I might not understand why adversity happens, by my conscious choice I can find strength, compassion, and grace through my trials.

[My] dream writers room: "'Taxi.' I need to write for someone named Judd."

If you're being ignored, that's a good time to concentrate on finding yourself and creating your own mystery.

Wall Street has turned the economy into a giant asset-stripping scheme, one whose purpose is to suck the last bits of meat from the carcass of the middle class.

Im crazy about my father, hes an amazing man, a real adventurer. He took us with him to travel all over the world. We were in places that were so remote, that white people hardly ever reach them.

When news of the crash came, probably a lot of people in small towns and farms across America felt a sense of grim satisfaction that the sinners had finally been punished for their wicked ways.

Books are not men and yet they are alive.