The most difficult thing about Time, I have learned, is doing it.

Even a mirror will not show you yourself, if you do not wish to see.

Did you ever look back at some moment in your past and have it suddenly grow so vivid that all the intervening years seemed brief, dreamlike, impersonal—the motions of a May afternoon surrendered to routine?

Death is the only limit to the road you travel.

Of course it does not apply to me. I am the soul of honor, kindness, mercy and goodness. Trust me in all things.

I like libraries. It makes me feel comfortable and secure to have walls of words, beautiful and wise, all around me. I always feel better when I can see that there is something to hold back the shadows.

It is a pain in the ass waiting around for someone to try to kill you.