When you sit down to write, write. Don't do anything else except go to the bathroom, and only do that if it absolutely cannot be put off.

How else could he go on, except with merciful incomprehension held before him like a shield? How could anyone?

What a paragon of virtue you are, gunslinger!" the man in black laughed.

No one ever does live happily ever after, but we leave the children to find that out for themselves.

Listening to it was like having a mud-slimed piece of silk drawn lightly back and forth across her face.

He's a very nice man and all that, easy to get along with, fun, he never makes me cry. But is that love? I mean, is that all there is to it? Even when you learned to ride your two-wheeler, you had to fall off a few times and scrape both knees. Call it a rite of passage. And that was just a little thing.

The quiet, singing voice of the rose. The song that promised all might be well, all might be well, that all manner of things might be well.