Life

When the last woman dies, the last man dies!

I wish I had lost an arm or a leg. It would have been much easier than losing a part of my heart, which lives on, but now beats to a different rhythm.

I'll tell you right now, a ghoul's hunger is true hell.

The moment a person feels he has nothing left to learn is the moment life prepares to hit him hard enough to correct such ignorance.

Make me a shadow on the wall.

Write what you love. Passion is the key to a good story.

Much later, Alice would wonder what might have happened if she had gone to bed when she was supposed to.

At the end of the day, it seems like there's a critic archetype for food movies, like with 'Ratatouille' or anything. You know, if you were doing a puppet show about chefs, one puppet would be the chef, one would be the critic.

Was it possible to find recompense, meaning, connection with others amidst the mess and the muddle ?

Life is marathon, not a sprint. It is a race we are all guaranteed to finish, so run wisely.

And I feel like the Queen of Water. I feel like water that transforms from a flowing river to a tranquil lake to a powerful waterfall to a freshwater spring to a meandering creek to a salty sea to raindrops gentle on your face to hard, stinging hail to frost on a mountaintop, and back to a river again.

I gave way to a wave of home-sickness that almost shames me now when I recollect it. I find it impossible in cold blood, and at this distance, to put into words the longing that shook me. I have forgotten the pain in the neck, but never will I forget the pain in my heart.

The voice sang on, “I am ready, I am ready, I am fine. I am fine, I am fine, I am fine.” I played it again. I was not fine.

There was this hot, yellowy stillness the air always got in the minutes before the last bell, as if it were stiffening itself to be shattered.

Life invariably provides every individual a cause to discover prudence amidst disquiet.

We cannot, after all, judge a biography by its length, by the number of pages in it; we must judge by the richness of the contents...Sometimes the 'unfinisheds' are among the most beautiful symphonies.

I had long ago stopped believing in promises. Biological imperatives, yes. Environmental factors, yes. Promises, no.

The worst thing about knowing that Gary Fairchild had been dead for a month was seeing him every day at work.

Denial, panic, threats, anger - those are very human responses to feeling guilt.

The death has an only color.