“Mozart, Julie says in a bitter chuckle, staring at the speaker. Its supposed to be the pinnacle of art, right? This transcendent human achievement? And we use it for background noise in bathrooms. ...”

“I try to think of things to say but nothing comes, and if something did come I probably couldn't say it. This is my great obstacle, the biggest of all the boulders littering my path. In my mind I a...”

“What is left of us? No countries, no cultures, no wars but still no peace. Whats at our core, then? Whats still squirming in our bones when everything else is stripped?”

“To be or not to be, that is the question: to go on living, fighting against this sea of troubles, or to die and end everything? Why be afraid of death? To die is to sleep, no more. Perhaps to dream...”

“The magic that confounds them is humanity. The naturally occurring, slow acting, unpredictably potent product of conscious minds connecting. These madmen want to synthesise love. They want to manuf...”

“Sex, once a law as undisputed as gravity, has been disproved. The equation is erased, the blackboard broken”

“The sky is a meadow of wildstar flowers.”

“~Tonight's Sea~Meet me by the sea, Under the stars. Where we can gaze With our hearts. Today, I am restless, Waiting for tonight's meet. I cannot believe how endlessThese hours can be. I hope the c...”

“He was there alone with himself, collected, tranquil, adoring, comparing the serenity of his heart with the serenity of the skies, moved in the darkness by the visible splendors of the constellatio...”

“Witches are naturally nosy, said Miss Tick, standing up. Well, I must go. I hope we shall meet again. I will give you some free advice, though.Will it cost me anything?What? I just said it was free...”

“How can you be one of the stars of heaven, when the stars are innumerable? What star number do you have?”

“His words were full of hope and threat. Like the stars.”

“All words are pegs to hang ideas on.”

“A word is not the same with one writer as it is with another. One tears it from his guts. The other pulls it out of his overcoat pocket.”

“No doubt I shall go on writing, stumbling across tundras of unmeaning, planting words like bloody flags in my wake....”