I realized I was on a something island. 'How did I get here,' I wondered, surrounded by Nothing, "and how can I get back?

Few people sufficiently appreciate the colossal task of feeding a world of billions of omnivores who demand meat with their potatoes.

He was not such a special person. He loved to read very much, and also to write. He was a poet, and he exhibited me many of his poems. I remember many of them. They were silly, you could say, and about love. He was always in his room writing those things, and never with people. I used to tell him, What good is all that love doing on paper? I said, Let love write on you for a little. But he was so stubborn. Or perhaps he was only timid.

I am sure people tell you this constantly but if you looked up 'incredibly beautiful' in the dictionary there would be a picture of you.

Everyone performs bad actions... A bad person is someone who does not lament his bad actions.

Once you hear something, you can never return to the time before you heard it.

I'm interested in the kind of religion that makes life harder. I'm not so interested in the comforting kind of religion.