With all our horrors and faults, somewhere in us there is a shining.

The misery stayed, not thought about but aching away, and sometimes I would have to ask myself, Why do I ache? Men can get used to anything, but it takes time.

And it never failed that during the dry years the people forgot about the rich years, and during the wet years they lost all memory of the dry years. It was always that way.

Maybe ever'body in the whole damn world is scared of each other.

War ... a reversal of the rules where a man is permitted to kill all the humans he can.

No single organism could be understood without observing and comprehending the entire colony.

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