The selfless love that we give to others, to the point of being willing to sacrifice our lives for them, is all the proof I need that human beings are not mere animals of self-interest. We carry within us a divine spark, and if we chose to recognize it, our lives have dignity, meaning, hope.

In a book, even the real bastards can't hurt you. And you can never loose a friend you make in a book. When you get to a sad part, no one's there to see you cry. Or wonder why you don't cry when you should.

Guilt is a tireless horse. Grief ages into sorrow, and sorrow is an enduring rider.

In the wind, the trees, like agitated lions preparing to roar, shook their great green manes.

A fanatic is a nut who has something to believe in.

He once told me that an August evening was "as hot as three toads in a Cuisinart," a comparison that left me blinking two days later.

In this world only the paranoid survive.