If I had to give up reading or give up listening to music, I suspect I'd stick with the music.

He tried to name which of the deadly seven might apply, and when he failed he decided to append an eighth, regret.

Writing doesn't come real easy to me. I couldn't write a novel in a year. It wouldn't be readable. I don't let an editor even look at it until the second year, because it would just scare them. I just have to trust that all these scraps and dead-ends will find a way.

Disease is nature's revenge for our destructiveness.

Needing and getting don’t seem likely to match up any time soon... What needs doing is mine to do.

A lizard in the spring - hear his darling sing. A bird with wings to fly - go back to his darling weep and moan till he dies. A mole in the ground - root a mountain down.

Or maybe it is only that we are so habitually inattentive that when some rare but simple geometry grabs us by the shoulders and shakes us into consciousness, we call our response sacred.