We are the clay, and you are Michelangelo. And we will be your masterpiece.

If the world breaks a million and one promises, can you trust the million and second?

Have you fallen in love, Will Henry?" "That's stupid." "What is? Love, or my question?" "I don't know." "You don't know? You've tried that trick once. What do you suppose it will work better the second time?" "I don't love her. She bothers me." "You have just defined the very thing you denied.

The cold stars spun to the ancient rhythm, the august march of an everlasting symphony. They are old, the stars, and their memory is long.

Our enemy is fear. Blinding, reason-killing fear. Fear consumes the truth and poisons all the evidence, leading us to false assumptions and irrational conclusions.

Climb onto my shoulders. I will not let you fall.

Sometimes in my tent, late at night, I think I can hear the stars scraping against the sky.