it is amazin, she thinks, how simple appearances can be created - a rush, a smile, a new coat of paint, a slow, calm voice, a hug, a new dress - a resolve to keep out questions and cling to secrets

The world before us is a postcard, and I imagine the story we are writing on it.

Whatever you choose for your stationery is your favorite color because it's where you pour your heart out.

I created an icicle sculpture in the snow. White on white.

Some things aren't meant to be known. Only believed.

Sometimes there's not a better way. Sometimes there's only the hard way.

What I think is all I have left. My mind is the only thing that makes me different from a fancy toaster. What we think does matter-it's all we truly have.

I don't want five hundred billion neural chips. I want guts.

I thought grandmothers had to like you. It’s a law or something.

I just think perfection and lasting through the ages is for Greek statues, not us mere humans.

There is something about her eyes. Eyes don't breathe. I know that much. But hers look breathless.

Within every elaborate lie, a kernel of truth.

The most basic and somehow forgettable thing is this: Love is not pain. Love is goodness. And real love--it's less shiny than solid and simple.

On Gandhi: Don’t ever forget, that we were not lead by a saint with his head in clouds, but by a master tactician with his feet on the ground.

The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.

I think music in itself is healing. It's an explosive expression of humanity.

Just like a good drama, the human brain runs on conflict.

Religion contracts the circle of our pleasures, but leaves it wide enough for her votaries to expatiate in.

With technology, we can achieve universal access to secondary education within a generation.

Say yes to your self. Say no to your anti-self.

Carlito likes to swap spit with men who don't want to be cool.