But there are times when a tree can no longer withstand the pain inflicted on it, and the wind will take pity on that tree and topple it over in a mighty storm. All the other trees who witnessed the evil look down upon the fallen tree with envy. They pray for the day when a wind will end their suffering. I pray for the day when God will end mine.

Silence was not the absence of sound but was itself a sound that could be loud or soft, soothing or disturbing, complex or simple.

Goodness was not a trait you acquired; it was a value you practiced when you were on the verge of doing evil.

Often, the human animal dresses terror in rage, and expresses both in a way unlike either.

I write because the lives of all of us are stories. If enough of those stories are told, then perhaps we will begin to see that our lives are the same story. The differences are merely in the details.

How can I love you if I don't know what hurts you?

It ain't how long you know somebody that means anything. It's what that person mean to you in your heart.