The reason death sticks so closely to life isn't biological necessity; it's envy. Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it$$$ a jealous$$$ possessive love that grabs at what it can.

That's what fiction is about$$$ isn't it$$$ the selective transforming of reality? The twisting of it to bring out its essence?

It's hard to be prejudiced against someone you love.

Today you go into make a modern recording with all this technology. The bass plays first$$$ then the drums come in later$$$ then they track the trumpet and the singer comes in and they ship the tape somewhere. Well$$$ none of the musicians have played together. You can't play jazz music that way. In order for you to play jazz$$$ you've got to listen to them. The music forces you at all times to address what other people are thinking and for you to interact with them with empathy and to deal with the process of working things out.

Forbearance in the face of fate$$$ beauty constant under torture$$$ are not merely passive. They are a positive achievement$$$ an explicit triumph.

Only love$$$ and not reason$$$ yields kind thoughts.

Yes$$$ they are carnal$$$ both of them$$$ love and death$$$ and therein lies their terror and their great magic!

If you talk to a man in a language he understands$$$ that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language$$$ that goes to his heart.

Every fear hides a wish.

For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains$$$ but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.