There are always answers. We just have to be smart enough.

The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive.

What you must understand about me is that I’m a deeply unhappy person.

Y'all smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die.

We need never be hopeless because we can never be irreperably broken.

They love their hair because they're not smart enough to love something more interesting.

Why don’t we break up? I guess I stay with her because she stays with me. And that’s not an easy thing to do.

I wanted to be one of those people who have streaks to maintain, who scorch the ground with their intensity. But for now, at least I knew such people, and they needed me, just like comets need tails.

At some point we all look up and realize we are lost in a maze.

Night falls fast. Today is in the past.

I'm really not up for answering any questions that start with how, when, where, why or what.

God Himself even "forgets" the wickedness committed by those whom He has forgiven. That's why it is never too late to clean up your life.

Earth's dispossessed are vulnerable targets for extremists: those who teach that global justice is meaningless; that satisfaction can come only in violence, division, and intellectual isolation.

What Washington needs is adult supervision.

If I put forth a legitimate effort, then I feel like, if that doesn't work out, that's all I can do.

There was still an element in acting, certainly for my dad, of like, "This is lunacy." But then once my parents could tell that I was serious, it was like, "Okay then."

The party line is that stocks historically have outperformed all other investment plans.

We cannot put off living until we are ready. The most salient characteristic of life is its urgency, 'here and now' without any possible postponement. Life is fired at us point-blank.

My sister is an ER doctor and my brother is a teacher.

When the reader and one narrator know something the other narrator does not, the opportunities for suspense and plot development and the shifting of reader sympathies get really interesting.

even The bed of love, that in the imagination Had seemed to be the giver of all peace, Is no more than a wine-cup in the tasting, And as soon finished.