It's very selfish when I write. I'm not aware, ever, of writing for another person; I'm not even really aware of writing for myself.

The bitterness of joy lies in the knowledge that is cannot last. Nor should joy last beyond a certain season, for, after that season, even joy would become merely habit.

I never know where I am going, though. That is part of what makes it so wonderful. And after all, who does?

I also love Disney, and will defend doing so, because there's so much in those films and I don't care if it's stereotyped.

I will draw you back to me. You shall see. By a chain of stars.

What is any of this to us? Time is endless and ours. Love and Death are only the games we play in it.

Your dreams will betray you. Go nowhere on a horse that fades.