Words, he knew, could scar.

You can't look back - you just have to put the past behind you, and find something better in your future.

Raw love, like raw heartache, could blindside you.

All it takes is a second and your whole life can get turned upside down.

The Lord turned water into wine. All I'm suggesting is a trip to the grocery store.

Losing Chloe had been like reading a wonderfulook only to realize that all the pages past a certain point were blank.

He gently touched his mother's cheek, felt her sorrow slip over his fingertips.

She understood how a world jammed with phones, email, and faxes could still leave you feeling utterly alone.

When it rains, " her father said "it pours.

And if you don't find what you're looking for?"At Roy's question Addie looked up."Then all I've lost is time.

A robber? In the trash bins? Honestly, Wes. This is Salem Falls, not the set of Law and Order.

Who needs theory when you have so much information? But this is categorically the wrong attitude to take toward forecasting, especially in a field like economics where the data is so noisy.

If you want your tree to produce plenty o' fruit, you've got to cut it back from time to time. Same thing with your neural cells. Some people might call it brain damage. I call it prunin'.

There's a world out there that nobody has bothered to promise her.

Ah! my friend, for whomever is alone, without a god and without a master, the weight of time is terrible. One must then choose a master, God being out of style.

There is only one hope for mankind - and that is democratic Socialism.

The writer's job is not to judge, but to seek to understand.

That's not normal, because we don't want to be normal. Normal is what weak people call it living. I call it death.

The moment has no time.

More knowledge may be gained of a man's real character by a short conversation with one of his servants than from a formal and studied narrative, begun with his pedigree and ended with his funeral.

All the persecutors declare against each other mortal war, while the philosopher, oppressed by them all, contents himself with pitying them.