The candle aimed its spark of light at heaven, like an artist who consumes himself to become divine.

If you find yourself in a fair fight, your tactics suck.

People who are most afraid of their dreams convince themselves they don't dream at all.

No story has power, nor will it last, unless we feel in ourselves that it is true and true of us.

Man is the only kind of varmint sets his own trap, baits it, then steps in it.

The candle aimed its spark of light at heaven, like an artist who consumes himself to become divine.

I believe there are techniques of the human mind whereby, in its dark deep, problems are examined, rejected or accepted. Such activities sometimes concern facets a man does not know he has. How often one goes to sleep troubled and full of pain, not knowing what causes the travail, and in the morning a whole new direction and a clearness is there, maybe the results of the black reasoning. And again there are mornings when ecstasy bubbles in the blood, and the stomach and chest are tight and electric with joy, and nothing in the thoughts to justify it or cause it.