Prac­tice doesn’t make per­fect. It makes bet­ter.

Staying alive is nice, but you can’t do that forever. It’s how you live the life you have while you have it.

Killing one person makes you a murderer. Killing a million people makes you a king. Killing them all makes you God.

The claws of Truth were painful. The lies tore away like scabs, and John bled there for hours, stifling his cries of pain in the sleeve of his overcoat - the overcoat he'd received from his father.

If Truth is taken away from us, then Right and Wrong are taken from us as well. If we don't know Right and Wrong, then we can't, we won't control ourselves, but will look to someone else to bring order through brute force and raw power. We will be controlled by a tyrant, and we will no longer be free.

Don't worry about getting perfect, just keep getting better.

God does not waste an ounce of our pain or a drop of our tears; suffering doesn't come our way for no reason, and He seems especially efficient at using what we endure to mold our character. If we are malleable, He takes our bumps and bruises and shapes them into something beautiful.