This is the language of the world before—a world of chaos and confusion and happiness and despair—before the blitz turned streets to grids, cities to prisons, and hearts to dust.

But how could anyone who's ever seen a summer - big explosion of green and skies lit up electric with splashy sunsets, a riot of flowers and wind that smells like honey - pick the snow?

Live free or die.

It's funny, isn't it? When you are young you just want to be old, and then later you wish you could go back to being a kid.

How can someone have the power to shatter you to dust--and also to make you feel so whole?

Fridays are the hardest in some ways: you’re so close to freedom.

Dystopian novels help people process their fears about what the future might look like; further, they usually show that there is always hope, even in the bleakest future.

And when it started to get dark you pointed to the sky, and told me there was a star for every thing you loved about me.

i think of all the thousands of billions of steps and missteps and chances and coincidences that have brought me here. Brought you here, and it feels like the biggest miracle in the world.

I love you. Remember. They cannot take it

I guess that’s just part of loving people: You have to give things up. Sometimes you even have to give them up.

Mankind, when left to themselves, are unfit for their own government.

We dwell amid pinheaded weasels who know only timid, the generic and the abacus.

If you want to understand a subject promise to speak on it.

Public depictions of women still tend to remain rigid and narrow - about the size of a coffin, say.

When I traveled through Greece in the '90s, everything [Albert Hoxie] taught me came flooding back and I was able to appreciate the art and culture much more because of him.

I am a geek in terms of, I love 'Close Encounters' and I love 'Star Wars,' but other things... 'Doctor Who,' I don't really care about at all, I couldn't give a fig about it.

People didn't talk about paedophiles in the seventies, I don't think.

Enjoy life while it is happening.

Hope is itself a species of happiness.

Tragedy when ridiculed by comedy does not condescend a reply.