I'm not an activist by nature. I am suspicious of Utopian thinking and equally suspicious of its alternate.

What breaks in daybreak? Is it the night? Is it the sun, cracked in two by the horizon like an egg, spilling out light?

If you really want to stay the same age you are now forever and ever, she'd be thinking, try jumping off the roof: death's a sure-fire method for stopping time.

Messy love is better than none, I guess. I am no authority on sane living.

They spent the first three years of school getting you to pretend stuff and then the rest of it marking you down if you did the same thing.

When any civilization is dust and ashes," he said, "art is all that's left over. Images, words, music. Imaginative structures. Meaning—human meaning, that is—is defined by them. You have to admit that.

Some of our earliest writing, in cuneiform, was about who owes what.