Dave hung up. And unplugged the phone. With a fierce and bitter pain he stared at it, watching how, over and over again, it didn't ring.

Eanna love us, Adaon preserve us, Morian guard our souls.

You have to be afraid for it to count as bravery.

It can be hard to write a skillfully entertaining fiction, but a great book wants to be more, and wants more from us.

But if you couldn't do everything, did that mean you did nothing?

In this world, where we find ourselves, we need compassion more than anything, I think, or we are all alone.

A hard truth: that courage can be without meaning or impact, need not be rewarded, or even known. The world has not been made in that way. Perhaps, however, within the self there might come a resonance, the awareness of having done something difficult, of having done . . . something.