We have this habit of romanticizing the lives of writers. I remember when I was a kid, I was like, 'I want to be Kurt Vonnegut.'

Some tourists think Amsterdam is a city of sin, but in truth it is a city of freedom. And in freedom, most people find sin.

Amsterdam is like the rings of a tree: It gets older as you get closer to the center.

I feel like crying, so I must be crying, but it's impossible to tell because I'm underwater.

...And in freedom, most people find sin.

So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.

A taste so profound and complex that it can't even be compared to other tastes, only to emotions. Cheesy waffles, I was thinking, tastes like love without the fear of love's dissolution.

My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations.

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

All those paper people living in their paper houses, burning the future to stay warm.

I would always love Alaska Young, my crooked neighbor, with all my crooked heart.

He wept bitter tears over the death of his enemy. It was his enemy, after all, who knew him best and kept him up at night.

I believe in rules. Sure I do. If there weren't any rules, how could you break them?

The personal, if it is deep enough, becomes universal, mythical, symbolic.

History doesn't always move in a straight line. Sometimes it zigs and zags.

Enemies are just friends in reverse.

They came from all over the world to work out at Gold's Gym.

Meat isn't murder, it's delicious.

Nutrition science is where surgery was in about 1650, you know, really interesting and promising, but would you want to have them operate on you yet? I don't think so.

Our hearts must not only be broken with sorrow, but be broken from sin, to constitute repentance.

It's good that kids know the Scripture. It's best that they know the Scripture and get the concept. All I can say is, it's working.