What good are insights? They only make things worse.

there isn't enough of anything as long as we live. But at intervals a sweetness appears and, given a chance prevails.

Life and death matters, yes. And the question of how to behave in this world, how to go in the face of everything. Time is short and the water is rising.

That's all we have, finally, the words, and they had better be the right ones.

Write about what you know, and what do you know better than your own secrets?

And what did you want? To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth.

I could hear my heart beating. I could hear everyone's heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark.

It ought to make us feel ashamed when we talk like we know what we're talking about when we talk about love.

The places where water comes together with other water. Those places stand out in my mind like holy places.

Dreams, you know, are what you wake up from.

But I can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting, crossing one leg and then the other. I feel like I could throw off sparks, or break a window--maybe rearrange all the furniture.

If Art does not enlarge men’s sympathies, it does nothing morally.

What we dwell on much with our mind sinks into our heart and shapes our life.

I don't have to justify its awesomeness/activeness/healthiness/usefulness to anyone, because it is MINE. Not yours.

It certainly is my opinion that a book worth reading only in childhood is not worth reading even then.

Definition of Love: A score of zero in tennis. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears of all my life.

It is said that life and death are under the power of language.

A glorious death is his, who for his country falls.

The message is that ultimate meaning is to be found in this present moment, infusing our everyday lives, here and now.

Nature is not anthropomorphic.

It's just unreal, I'm shocked myself. I've played good matches here, but never really almost destroyed somebody.