Still, when all is said, somewhere one must belong: even the soaring falcon returns to its master's wrist.

Any work of art, provided it springs from a sincere motivation to further understanding between people, is an act of faith and therefore is an act of love.

With one exception everybody who has ever been involved with me is still a great friend of mine.

I'll never get used to anything. Anybody that does they might as well be dead.

Have you never heard what the wise men say: all of the future exists in the past.

[L]ove, having no geography, knows no boundaries.

I thought that Mr. Clutter was a very nice gentleman. I thought so right up to the moment that I cut his throat.