Tomorrow may be hell, but today was a good writing day, and on the good writing days nothing else matters.
We save our lives in such unlikely ways.
He was no longer scared of what tomorrow might bring because yesterday has brought it.
I wondered how I looked to her, in that place, and knew that even in a place that was nothing but knowledge that was the one thing I could not know. That if I look inward I would see only infinite mirrors staring into myself for eternity.
What need, Dunstan wondered, could someone have of the storm-filled eggshells?
It's astonishing how much trouble one can get oneself into, if one works at it. And astonishing how much trouble one can get oneself out of, if one assumes that everything will, somehow or other, work out for the best.