The beginnings were sweet, the endings usually bitter, but the middles were only the tightrope you walked between the one and the other. No more than that.

If you don't receive love from the ones who are meant to love you, you will never stop looking for it.

There is an ache in my heart for the imagined beauty of a life I haven't had, from which I had been locked out, and it never goes away.

I think kissing is what separates us from the animals and makes us divine.

It's a sad thing to watch your best friend turn into somebody you don't know anymore. Or even want to know.

I know that it's easier to look at death than it is to look at pain, because while death is irrevocable, and the grief will lessen in time, pain is too often merely relentless and irreversible.

There is a loveliness to life that does not fade. Even in the terrors of the night, there is a tendency toward grace that does not fail us.

Nothing says hell has to be fire.

If love drove people mad, what would lack of love do?

The thing is, all memory is fiction.

Their love for me was both a myth and a torture and so I wrecked everything. I hurt them, and I left them hurting.

My father managed to change his entire life after I wrote a novel about his brutal regime as a family man. It took resoluteness and courage for my father to change, and I need to acknowledge that.

It was a star, " Mrs. Whatsit said sadly. "A star giving up its life in battle with the Thing. It won, oh, yes, my children, it won. But it lost its life in the winning.

I would rather the man who presents something for my consideration subject me to a zephyr of truth and a gentle breeze of responsibility rather than blow me down with a curtain of hot wind.

Your waking adult life is going to be spent in what you do professionally, so you'd better like the journey and not just aim for the destination.

If you give, it will be given to you. And I have found that generous people are blessed people.

Poetry is a lyrical insinuation. Often, its melodic subtlety kisses the subconscious mind.

Twenty thousand birds moved away from me as one, like a ground-hugging white cloud, clucking softly.

It still frightens me a little bit to think that so much of my life was totally devoted to Star Trek and almost nothing else.

When one individual writer sings her song of beauty, she changes the lives of a million others.

People continue to fear dying, only because no one ever has.