... Corellian curses being a synergistic blend of vulgarity, obscenity, and outright blasphemy that were the only things really worth saying when one was in the middle of being blown to monatomic dust.

We can each sit and wait to die, from the very day of our births. Those of us who do not do so, choose to ask - and to answer - the two questions that define every conscious creature: What do I want? and What will I do to get it? Which are, finally, only one question: What is my will? Caine teaches us that the answer is always found within our own experience; our lives provide the structure of the question, and a properly phrased question contains its own answer.

At the heart of its strength is a weakness: a lone candle can hold it back. Love is more than a candle, love can ignite the stars.

Each of us is the sum of our scars.

I swear to you on any kind of sacred whateverthefuck you favor: if I live through this I will absolutely start taking your advice." "That'll look nice on your headstone.

A powerful enough metaphor grows its own truth.

Every time a horse let you up onto its back, it’s giving you its life. Every time.