You can come back to friendship. You can let it drop, for five years or ten years, and come back to it.

Fight with realistic hope, not to destroy all the world's wrong, but to renew its good.

One moment flying in green sunlight, then the sky suddenly grey and dark.

He just put his hand through the bulkhead, exactly as she'd done, and squeezed my shoulder. He has very strong fingers. And he kept his hand there the whole way home, even when he was reading the map and giving me headings. So I am not flying alone now after all.

There’s glory and honour in being chosen. But not much room for free will

Hope is treacherous, but how can you live without it?

If you show this devious little liar one atom's worth of compassion I will have you shot.