All I wanted, even when I hated you most, was some poor, barren, parched excuse to love you. But you only gave me riddles.

Men see what they are most afraid of.

Those who fear the imagination condemn it: something childish, they say, something monsterish, misbegotten. Not all of us dream awake. But those of us who do have no choice.

Love and anger are like land and sea: They meet at many different places.

Then you will have to trust me. Beyond logic, beyond reason, beyond hope, trust me.

I don't teach lies, but I do not teach all I know is true.

What?" It was a good word. Like a rock in a river, sticking up to let you land on it, so you could make your way across the flow.