We are all the playground of angels and demons.

I have a sort of . . . thing, I suppose, for certain words. They spark inside me, somehow, turning me to touchpaper, but I don't know what they are until someone says them.

When I was lost in the fog, it was as though nothing else existed. And, afterwards, it seemed incomprehensible that I had ever really thought like that. Self-recrimination inevitably followed.

Days passed in a grey fog. I was becalmed. Without energy, without hope, with no sight of land, I could remember feeling better but I somehow couldn't believe in it. There was nothing but this.

There had been a subtle realignment of the spheres. The world was somehow a place I could endure again. If life was a grey corridor lined with doors, it was now within my power to open some of them.

I thought of Marius. Wild, wonderful, Byronic-fantasy Marius, who had somehow found something he wanted in the everyday quietness of me. Until he hadn't.

It's ironic, since they're supposed to be immortal, but vampires are kind of like small businesses: half of them go down within their first year

And now he smiled at me. All teeth. The way only people who hadn’t learned self-consciousnessknew how to smile.

And when he kisses me it feels a bit like fear and tastes a bit like tears,  but it’s as bright and sweet as sherbet, and I decide to call it joy.

In daylight and up close, he was merciless, all smiles and freckles, the brightest, boldest flame a moth could wish for.

The future is terrifying because it's full of stuff, not because it's empty.

There will be positive and negative references with everything we do in life. At best we can simply hope that overtime, the positive outweighs the negative.

Bring a mirror and let a dirty face recognize itself.

You write a thought down because you want to see what next as a thought is going to come out.

When you listen to yourself, everything comes naturally. It comes from inside, like a kind of will to do something. Try to be sensitive. That is yoga.

There is nothing so cruel in this world as the desolation of having nothing to hope for.

I did Our Daily Bread for King and that made me popular in the Soviet Union; King was amused by that.

Either you will determine truth by your feelings or truth will determine your feelings. Be careful following feelings alone.

What doesn't kill me just makes me stronger

Of course, this person is to have the trust of the American people, then he or she would not only have the wish but also the supported political will to implement all these agreements.

For to a folysshe demaunde behoueth a folysshe ansuere.