You saw me before I saw you. You had that look in your eyes, as if you wanted something. Wanted it for a long time.

And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.

The people we care for aren't always the one we should

How long will you keep me?" I asked. You shrugged. "Forever, of course.

Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.

Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.

It was like I existed in a kind of parallel universe, thinking thoughts and feelings that no one else understood.

Nobody's bought this land. And no one's going to want it either. It's dying land, lonely land." "Like me, then," I said. "Yes, like you." You chewed the corner of your lip. "You both need saving.

Because it's magic, this place . . . beautiful. And you're beautiful . . . beautifully separate. It all fits.

I craved your warmth. I hugged myself, rubbing my fingers up and down. I guess people are like insects sometimes, drawn to heat, A kind of infra-red longing.

People love what they're used to, I guess." "No." You shook your head. "People should love what needs loving. That way they can save it.

Our Scripture awakened that most glorious of things, the spontaneous love our Lord so desires His children to bear Him, for it is what He bears them.

As I witness the dead of beloved ones, it makes be become more conscious that life indeed has an end.

Sometimes you don't get to choose your partner. Life chooses it for you.

If we cannot prevail with men for God, we will at least endeavor to prevail with God for men.

Friends will always be there for the party. REAL friends will be there after the party...

Nothing can stop the man with the right mental attitude from achieving his goal nothing on earth can help the man with the wrong mental attitude.

There's more to getting to where you're going then just knowing there's a road.

Fiction is in danger of becoming a kind of poetry. Only other poets read it. Only other fiction writers care about it.

The Samurai is the first to suffer anxiety for human society, and he is the last to seek personal pleasure.

If you want to see your plays performed the way you wrote them, become President.