He wondered whether home was a thing that happened to a place after a while$$$ or if it was something that you found in the end$$$ if you simply walked and waited and willed it long enough.

That's the trouble with living things. Don't last very long. Kittens one day$$$ old cats the next. And then just memories. And the memories fade and blend and smudge together.

You can't trust other people. If it's important$$$ you have to do it yourself.

Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes$$$ and forgot.

What I say is$$$ a town isn't a town without a bookstore. It may call itself a town$$$ but unless it's got a bookstore$$$ it knows it's not foolin' a soul.

Without a word$$$ without my pride$$$ I reach out from the inside.

If thou wouldst please the ladies$$$ thou must endeavor to make them pleased with themselves.

Mistakes are great. The more I make$$$ the smarter I get.

I just invent. Then I wait until man comes around to needing what I've invented.

Incredible the animal that first dreamed of another animal.