If I cannot horrify, I'll go for the gross out. I'm not proud.

Time apparently did nothing but blunt grief’s sharpest edge so that it hacked rather than sliced.

The glory of a good tale is that it is limitless and fluid; a good tale belongs to each reader in its own particular way.

Anything with the power to make you laugh over thirty years later isn’t a waste of time. I think something like that is very close to immortality.

"You need hedges.""Hedges," I said, bemused. "Yes, Edgar." He looked surprised and a little disappointed, as if I had failed to understand a very simple concept. "Hedges against the night."

and so will the world end, I think, a victim of love rather than hate. For love's ever been the more destructive weapon, sure.

Andy Dufresne: 'That's the beauty of music. They can't get that from you...haven't you ever felt that way about music?' Red: 'I played a mean harmonica as a younger man. Lost interest in it though. Didn't make much sense in here.' Andy: 'Here's where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don't forget.' Red: 'Forget?' Andy: 'Forget that...there are places in this world that aren't made out of stone. That there's something inside...that they can't get to, that they can't touch. That's yours.' Red: 'What're you talking about?' Andy: 'Hope.'