Humanity is a parade of fools, and I am at the front of it, twirling a baton.

What will happen will happen. There is time for miracles until there is no more time, but time has no end.

Each book is a mind alive, a life revealed, a world awaiting exploration, but living people are all those things, as well—and more, because their stories haven’t yet been completely told.

The only thing I know for sure is how much I do not know.

Much of her life had been lived like a balancing act on a spearpoint fence, and on a particularly difficult night when she was twelve, she had decided that instinct was, in fact, the quiet voice of God. Prayers did receive replies, but you had to listen closely and believe in the answer. At twelve, she wrote in her diary: "God doesn't shout; He whispers, and in the whisper is the way.

Funny, how one good cookie could calm the mind and even elevate a troubled soul.

Evil was coming. I wondered whose face it would be wearing.