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

One man sees a riselka: his life forks there.  Two men see a riselka: one of them shall die.  Three men see a riselka: one is blessed, one forks, one shall die. One woman sees a riselka: her path comes clear to her.  Two women see a riselka: one of them shall bear a child.  Three women see a riselka: one is blessed, one is clear, one shall bear a child.

My youngest brother had a wonderful schtick from some time in high school, through to graduating medicine. He had a card in his wallet that read, ‘If I am found with amnesia, please give me the following books to read …’ And it listed half a dozen books where he longed to recapture that first glorious sense of needing to find out ‘what happens next’ … the feeling that keeps you up half the night. The feeling that comes before the plot’s been learned.

... everyone knew that all islands were worlds unto themselves, that to come to an island was to come to another world.

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

As many have noted, the peril for authors is that our work space is too easily our play space.

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