and every day I thank [God] that I am alive, not because I fear death, but because my wife has a husband and my son is not an orphan.

Attention shifted to him like sunflowers turning to the sun.

hills that stand soft and a sky that stands high and blue, and the sun setting behind a windmill, and always, always, hazy strings of mountains that fall and fall away on the horizon.

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.

And that's the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too.

A man who has no conscience, no goodness, does not suffer.

Nothing good came free. Even love. You paid for all things. And if you were poor, suffering was your currency.

But time, it is like charm. You never have as much as you think.

The desert weed lives on, but the flower of spring blooms and wilts.

I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.

Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life. Silence is pushing the off button. Shutting it down. All of it.

I’ve read Hamlet, I know men suffer.

If there is a fundamental challenge within these stories, it is simply to change our lurking suspicion that some lives matter less than other lives.

Genuine, authentic relating enlivens the spirit.

What are you afraid of then? Not Being able to see, I think not seeing because your obsessed by something that blots out the world.

I will be going to Belgium to win -- and we will see how the weekend develops from there.

I find Donald Trump to be very kind and generous. I find him to have a great sense of humor.

Going on means going far, going far means returning.

…that's what old people are here for, — else their experience is of little use.

All battles have some use, including those in which we were defeated.

History is an omlette. THe eggs are already broken.