Can You Be Serious For Two Words?"

In Our Memories, There Is A Graveyard Where We Bury Our Dead. They All Lie There Together, The Loved Ones And The Ones We Hated, Friends And Foes And Kin, With No Distinction Among Them. We Have To Mourn Every One Of Them, Because Our Memories Have Made Them As Much A Part Of Us As Our Bones Or Our Skin. If We Don't, We've No Right To Remember Anything At All.

I Guess There's Just A Time For Doing Dumb Things.

Why Do You Work So Hard To Make Yourself Disliked? I Should Think You'd Find It Happens Enough On Its Own Without Putting Yourself To Any Extra Trouble.

One Man's Mistake Is Another Man's Opportunity.

All Literature Consists Of Whatever The Writer Thinks Is Cool. The Reader Will Like The Book To The Degree That He Agrees With The Writer About What's Cool.