...now I'm a spent firework; but at least I've been a firework.

Travel far enough, you meet yourself.

Truth is singular. Its 'versions' are mistruths.

If swans weren't real myths'd make up.

Books don't offer real escape, but they can stop a mind scratching itself raw.

I believe death is only a door. One closes, and another opens. If I were to imagine heaven, I would imagine a door opening. And he would be waiting for me there.

Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.

A half-read book is a half-finished love affair.

You say you're 'depressed' - all i see is resilience. You are allowed to feel messed up and inside out. It doesn't mean you're defective - it just means you're human.

I believe there is another world waiting for us. A better world. And I'll be waiting for you there.

My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?

Your perception of your dream changes as you walk toward it.

Conscience is the manifestation of our divine nature, the absolute truthfulness that we all have inside, that resides beyond the instinctive desire to survive.

this one whom habit of memory propels to the ground of his making, sleeper only the mortal sounds can sing awake, this blessing love gives again into our arms.

If there is one class of person I have never quite trusted, it is a man who knows no doubt.

If children are different from us, they are more spontaneous. Grown-up lives have become overlaid with dross.

But our eyes are different, what you see ain't what I see.

She looked at her own past, and, for the first time, she forgave herself: it hadn't been her fault, but the fault of that insecure little boy, who had given up after the first attempt.

Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End!

But you I never understood, Your spirit's secret hides like goldSunk in a Spanish galleon Ages ago in waters cold.