Ordinary, said Aunt Lydia, is what you are used to. This may not seem ordinary to you now, but after a time it will. It will become ordinary.

She who pays the undertaker calls the tune.

Happiness is a garden walled with glass: there's no way in or out.

By now you know: I come from another planet. But I will never say to you, "Take me to your leaders." Even I--unused to your ways though I am--would never make that mistake. We ourselves have such beings among us, made of cogs, pieces of paper, small disks of shiny metal, scraps of coloured cloth. I do not need to encounter more of them. Instead I will say, "Take me to your trees. Take me to your breakfasts, your sunsets, your bad dreams, your shoes, your nouns. Take me to your fingers; take me to your deaths." These are worth it. These are what I have come for.

I doubt that Canada will be seen forever on the international stage as Mr/s Boring Niceperson, as has been the habit.

You're never going to kill storytelling, because it's built into the human plan. We come with it.

Love is giving, marriage is buying and selling. You can't put love into a contract.