Was that what she meant? Why she cried? Because he was an animal afraid to leave its cage, no words to say what he thought, no thoughts but muddled mad stupid thoughts?

He put his fist against his chest. “Burn, Maddygirl, ” he said. Then he turned and left her in the flickering gloom and thunder.

He lifted his eyes. They were the color of the deepest heart of hurricane clouds, deeper blue than the sky behind him.

...oppression is as American as apple pie...

The value of human beings does not consist in their appearance

Our values are as a result of the information you respond to on regular basis.

Your real purpose in life is to develop yourself. To successfully do this you must always be working toward a goal.

I have had the privilege of losing everything.

Depending on what I'm working on, I come to the writing desk with entirely different mindsets. When I change form one to the other, it's as if another writer is on the scene.

Grant that the true organ with which the beautiful is apprehended is the imagination, and it follows that all arts are likely to affect the feelings indirectly.

Lots of people with little kids or babies with Down syndrome tell me they aren't afraid of the future for their child because of what I am doing to help people understand it better.

It is what is painted between the outlines that makes the difference between merely competent painting and really meaningful art.

There is more fine abstract design in Navajo rugs than in all these modern paintings.