Travel spoils you for regular life.

Hatchery fish have the same colours, but they always seem muted like bad reproductions of great art.

The writer's life: Hard days, lots of work, no money, too much silence. Nobody's fault. You chose it.

Losers walking around with money in their pockets are always dangerous, not to be trusted. Some horse always reaches out and grabs them.

I walked to the lake and sat on the shore for a few minutes, just staring at the moonlight on the water. Moonlight never gets old.

Books were a dependable pleasure. I read more then than I ever was able to read again until now when I am too old to work much and am mostly alone.

It was hard to know how to play the game when the rules kept changing.

Once you want something, everything changes.

Those [old] days are gone... accept the reality and do it.

We're rapidly entering a world where everything can be monitored and measured. But the big problem is going to be the ability of humans to use, analyze and make sense of the data.

Lovers may come and go, there was the memory of blood, the low call.

When he smiled, something strange happened to my insides. It was like they turned to liquid.

As a leader, you're probably not doing a good job unless your employees can do a good impression of you when you're not around.

The jungle looked back at them with a vastness, a breathing moss-and-leaf silence, with a billion diamond and emerald insect eyes.

I don't know how many thoughts we have a second, but it's quite an amazing number, and just to pin down the appropriate sequence of those, all you really need is a pencil and a piece of paper.