It was a particularly good evening to begin a book.

The thing about God, she thought, is that He usually does help, but not until you've made an effort on your own.

But he thought all the strange words were beautiful, and he had never had a book of his own before.

He was the owner of the moonlight on the ground, he fell in love with the most beautiful of the trees, he made wreaths of leaves and strung them around his neck.

Everyone must imagine his own snakes because no one else's snakes can ever be as awful.

I need to write down my observations. Even the tiniest ones; they're the most important.

There's no need to imagine that you're a wondrous beauty, because that's what you are.