...sentences swallowed and sung back and swallowed all over again. She was made entirely out of words.

The great thing about a short story is that it doesn't have to trawl through someone's whole life; it can come in glancingly from the side.

The world is always changing brightness and hotness and soundness, I never know how it's going to be the next minute.

Scared is what you're feeling. Brave is what you're doing.

I look back one more time. It's like a crater, a hole where something happened.

Ma's still nodding. "You're the one who matters, though. Just you." I shake my head till it's wobbling because there's no just me.

It’s called mind over matter. If we don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” When a bit of me hurts, I always mind.

Books are the air I breathe, so I don't notice the seasons.

If I was made of cake I'd eat myself before somebody else could.

I remember manners, that's when people are scared to make other persons mad.

When I tell her what I’m thinking and she tells me what she’s thinking, our each ideas jumping into the other’s head, like coulouring blue crayon on top of yellow that makes green.

You can't lose sleep over should-of's and could-of's.

There’s only one person to blame for lack of self confidence

When in doubt as to what you should do, err on the side of 'giving.

Where you have no religion, you are sure to have no government, for as religion disappears, anarchy takes place and fixes a compleat Hell on earth till religion returns.

Warmaking doesn't stop warmaking. If it did, our problems would have stopped millennia ago.

People travel to faraway places to watch, in fascination, the kind of people they ignore at home.

The world, a tired performer, offers us another half-assed season.

And when all is said and done, there is no greater success in the world than just being happy.

The youth of today and the youth of tomorrow will be accorded an almost unequaled opportunity for great accomplishment and for human service.

That what cannot be repaired is not to be regretted.