Nobody steals books but your friends.

There's really nothing quite like someone's wanting you dead to make you want to go on living.

I walked among Shadows, and found a race of furry creatures, dark and clawed and fanged, reasonably manlike, and about as intelligent as a freshman in the high school of your choice-sorry, kids, but what I mean is they were loyal, devoted, honest, and too easily screwed by bastards like me and my brother. I felt like the dee-jay of your choice.

His followers called him Mahasamatman and said he was a god. He preferred to drop the Maha- and the -atman, however, and called himself Sam. He never claimed to be a god, but then he never claimed not to be a god.

It is anticipation and recollection that fill the heart—never the sensation of the moment.

I saw my earlier selves as different people, acquaintances I had outgrown. I wondered how I could ever have been some of them.

Good-bye and hello, as always.