The soul may not be destroyed. The soul goes on forever. Like the number pi, it is without cessation or conclusion. Like pi it is a constant. Pi is an irrational number, incapable of being made into a fraction, impossible to divide from itself. So, too, the soul is an irrational, indivisible equation that perfectly expresses one thing: you.

You can't let facts get in the way of the truth.

Her sanity was a fragile thing, a butterfly cupped in her hands, that she carried with her everywhere, afraid of what would happen if she let it go-or got careless and crushed it.

I didn't know the inner me was hungry," I said to Art. "That's because it already starved to death.

Who knows what may lie around the next corner? There may be a window somewhere ahead. It may look out on a field of sunflowers.

If the workers took a notion they could stop all speeding trains; every ship upon the ocean they can tie with mighty chains.

I mean, when the world comes for your children, with the knives out, it's your job to stand in the way.