Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.

At that moment i felt lonelier than i'd ever felt before, and that loneliness seemed to squat in my lungs and crush all but my most minimal breathing. There was nothing left to say. Not about this. Not about anything.

A book with the genuine power to stir and comfort its readers.

But my father, a thief in many ways, had robbed me of my concentration.

We move through places every day that would never have been if not for those who came before us. Our workplaces, where we spend so much time--we often think they began with our arrival. That's not true.

What in life can love not penetrate?

You can't substitute material things for love or for gentleness or for tenderness or for a sense of comradeship