Love implies anger. The man who is angered by nothing cares about nothing.

Oh$$$ if Shakespeare says it$$$ that's all right.

There is a way of being wrong which is also sometimes necessarily right.

Shut him up or shut him down.

The only thing we never get enough of is love; and the only thing we never give enough of is love.

I am a good Hegelian. If you have a good theory$$$ forget about the reality.

We feel free because we lack the very language to articulate our unfreedom.

Few things leave a deeper mark on the reader$$$ than the first book that finds its way to his heart.

I was raised among books$$$ making invisible friends in pages that seemed cast from dust and whose smell I carry on my hands to this day.

Sometimes we think people are like lottery tickets$$$ that they're there to make our most absurd dreams come true.