Jake went in, aware that he had, for the first time in three weeks, opened a door without hoping madly to find another world on the other side. A bell jingled overhead. The mild, spicy smell of old books hit him, and the smell was somehow like coming home.

There came a time when you realized that moving on was pointless. That you took yourself with you wherever you went.

Good luck is just bad luck with its hair combed.

We never know which lives we influence, or when, or why. Not until the future eats the present, anyway. We know when it's too late.

Human Nature Baby, grab it and growl.

Just remember that Dumbo didn't need the feather; the magic was in him.

I saw something even more beautiful than a sense of humor: an appreciation for life’s essential absurdity.