There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.

I remembered something somebody had once said to me. It's okay. Everyday is freshly ground.

"Where do you get your ideas?" That's the one question I'm genuinely sick of being asked, and also genuinely fascinated by. What fascinates me is not that people ask the question, but what kind of answer are they really looking for? Because if I tell them the truth, which is "I make them up," they seem very disappointed. They want to know about the trek I do once a year to the mountain.

I couldn't get you to the ocean, but there was nothing stopping me bringing the ocean to you.

The moment that you feel that just possibly you are walking down the street naked...that's the moment you may be starting to get it right.

You made peace,” said the buffalo man. “You took our words and made them your own. They never understood that they were here—and the people who worshiped them were here—because it suits us that they are here. But we can change our minds. And perhaps we will.

Sexton: I think the whole world's gone mad. Death: Uh-uh. It's always like this. You probably just don't get out enough.