Death is contagious; it is contracted the moment we are conceived.

You see, though we travel together, we travel alone.

It's a strange thing, how you can love somebody, how you can be all eaten up inside with needing them--and they simply don't need you. That's all there is to it, and neither of you can do anything about it. And they'll be the same way with someone else, and someone else will be the same way about you and it goes on and on--this desperate need--and only once in a rare million do the same two people need each other.

What can we give a child when there is nothing left?

I looked at this tiny, perfect creature and it was as though a light switch had been turned on. A great rush of love flooded out of me.

If I have something I want to say that is too difficult for adults to swallow, then I will write it in a book for children.

It is the ability to choose which makes us human.