Love was a sacred garment, woven of a fabric so thin that it could not be seen, yet so strong that even mighty death could not tear it, a garment that could not be frayed by use, that brought warmth into what would otherwise be an intolerable, cold world- but at times love could also be as heavy as chain mail. Bearing the burden of love, on those occasions when it was a solemn weight, made it more precious when, in better times, it caught the wind in sleeves like wings, and lifted you.

The desire to write well can never be fulfilled without hard work.

The hatred of truth is the taproot of violence.

Britney: You in a fight? Odd: No, It's an employment-related fork wound.

I have learned a great deal from novels. Some of it is even true.

Or maybe they were just doing it for fun. A lark. Their religion is tolerant of extreme forms of recreation. Boys will be boys, after all, and sociopathic boys will be sociopathic.

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