That's why you have to save the dying man. Because you want him around to keep saving you.

Don't swear off all the fruits just because you ate one bad apple.

Nobody, and I mean nobody, ever started a revolution playing by the rules

The phrase what I want struck me. It contains so much entitlement, so many complications, but encompasses only what a person doesn't have.

You can’t judge a man solely on his actions. Sometimes actions are nothing more than re actions.

It seemed cruelly unfair to me, even then, how fast your life can change before you have an opportunity to rethink your choices. We should get second chances on the big stuff. We should come equipped with erasers attached to the tops of our heads. Like pencils. We should be able to flip over and scribble away mistakes, at least once or twice during the duration of our existence, especially in matters of life and death.

I took a closer look. Jesus had piercing blue eyes, dark hair that hung in a flawless mess, his body was emaciated and taut, his hands and feet dripped with blood, and nothing but a gauzy loincloth hid what looked like a nice package underneath. “Sexy,” I said. “He looks like a rock star.