But no value has been put on human life; it is given to us free and taken without being paid for. What is it worth? If you look around, at times the value may seem to be little or nothing at all. Often after you have sweated and tried and things are not better for you, there comes a feeling deep down in the soul that you are not worth much.

A most mediocre person can be the object of a love which is wild, extravagant, and beautiful as the poison lillies of the swamp.

The human heart is a lonely hunter-but the search for us southerners is more anguished.

Maybe when people longed for a thing that bad the longing made them trust in anything that might give it to them.

Sometimes this fellow's music was like little colored pieces of crystal candy, and other times it was the softest, saddest thing she had ever imagined about.

There was hope in him, and soon perhaps the outline of his journey would take form.

There is no stillness like the quiet of the first cold nights in the fall.