We're all made of stories. When they finally put us underground, the stories are what will go on. Not forever, perhaps, but for a time. It's a kind of immortality, I suppose, bounded by limits, it's true, but then so's everything.

The problem with children is that you have to put up with their parents.

Under the skin, intense fires burn.

Not everything has to mean something. Some things just are.

If you're not ready to die, then how can you live?

Remember the quiet wonders. The world has more need of them than it has for warriors.

Sculptors, poets, painters, musicians-they're the traditional purveyors of Beauty. But it can as easily be created by a gardener, a farmer, a plumber, a careworker.