Thomas Edison's last words were 'It's very beautiful over there'. I don't know where there is, but I believe it's somewhere, and I hope it's beautiful.

If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions. But we can't know better until knowing better is useless.

He loved the scratching of pencil against paper when he was focused: it meant something was happening.

I found his last words without too much searching. Captured by the Bolivian army, Guevara said, 'Shoot, coward. You are only going to kill a man.

The human tongue is like wasabi: it's very powerful, and should be used sparingly.

Doing stuff never feels as good as you hope it will feel.

What can we do?" Mom asked again. I shrugged. But she kept asking, as if there were something she could do, until I just kind of crawled across the couch into her lap and my dad came over and held my legs really tight and I wrapped my arms all the way around my mom's middle and they held on to me for hours while the tide rolled in.