why do you like fights Darry~Ponyboy He just likes to show off his muscles~Sodapop

Maybe the two different worlds we lived in weren't so different. We saw the same sunset.

nothing can wear you out like caring about people

To deal with a 14-dimensional space, visualize a 3-D space and say 'fourteen' to yourself very loudly. Everyone does it.

I think we should think of AI as the intellectual equivalent of a backhoe. It will be much better than us at a lot of things.

They grew up on the outside of society. They weren't looking for a fight. They were looking to belong.

In science, you can say things that seem crazy, but in the long run they can turn out to be right. We can get really good evidence, and in the end the community will come around.

If you have two friends in your lifetime, you're lucky. If you have one good friend, you're more than lucky

I refuse to say anything beyond five years because I don't think we can see much beyond five years.

I lie to myself all the time. But I never believe me.

Backhoes can save us a lot of digging. But of course, you can misuse it.

Life is fair. We all get the same nine-month shake in the box, and then the dice roll. Some people get a run of sevens. Some people, unfortunately, get snake-eyes. Its just how the world is.

Always, it is the poor people who pay. And always, it is the poor people's women who pay the most.

If the future was bared before you, would it still be yours? If the past could chase you, would you run from it? If the world crumbled tonight, would you carve your own?

Max lifted his head, with great sorrow and great astonishment.'There were stars, ' He said. 'They burned my eyes.’...from a Himmel street window, he wrote, the stars set fire to my eyes.

I know a lot about writing, but I don't know much about how other industries work. I've tried to use my naivety to my advantage.

Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery.

No form of violence can ever be excused in a society that wishes to call itself decent

I believe the world is beautiful, and poetry, like bread, is for everyone.

I want to say words that flame as I say them, but I keep quiet and don't try to make both words fit in one mouthful.

That afternoon my mother had brought me the roses. "Save them for my funeral," I'd said.