So this was how secrets got started, I thought to myself. People constructed them little by little.

I wasn't particularly afraid of death itself. As Shakespeare said, die this year and you don't have to die the next.

An unhealthy soul requires a healthy body.

Only people who have been discriminated against can really know how much it hurts. Each person feels the pain in his own way, each has his own scars. So I think I'm as concerned about fairness and justice as anybody. But what disgusts me even more are people who have no imagination. The kind T. S. Elliot calls 'hollow men'. People who fill up that lack of imagination with heartless bits of straw, not even aware of what they're doing. Callous people who throw a lot of empty words at you, trying to force you to do what you don't want to.

This is one more piece of advice I have for you: don't get impatient. Even if things are so tangled up you can't do anything, don't get desperate or blow a fuse and start yanking on one particular thread before it's ready to come undone. You have to realize it's going to be a long process and that you'll work on things slowly, one at a time.

Your work should be an act of love, not a marriage of convenience.

I think of myself as more the non-turn-on type. so when I do get turned on, I don’t trust it, I have to investigate the source.