It's bliss when you give up all that stuff that separates you from other human beings. It's hard, but you break down all that stuff.

Now he knew why he loved her so. Without ever leaving the ground, she could fly. 'There must be another one like you,' he whispered to her. 'There's got to be at least one more woman like you.

The body is ready to have babies. Nature wants it done then, when the body can handle it, not after 40, when the income can handle it.

Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous, especially if it was her children she had settled on to love. The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit, so when they broke its back, or shoved it in a croaker sack, well, maybe you'd have a little love left over for the next one.

There are some very powerful contributions to knowledge in the scientific world or the legal world, but art is singular. That's why every dictator gets rid of the artists first. They burn the books and execute the artists first. Then they get on with whatever else they're interested in. Art might do something. It's dangerous.

I sometimes lose interest in the characters and get much more interested in the trees and animals.

If you can't count, they can cheat you. If you can't read, they can beat you.