He may not have been born with guts, but he didn't have to die without them.

Sometimes it seemed to him that his life was delicate as a dandelion. One little puff from any direction, and it was blown to bits.

You think it's so great to die and make everyone cry and carry on. Well it ain't.

All of us use art and literature as an escape from time to time, but if it's any good, it has a healing quality - a quality that enlarges our human spirits.

The problem with people who are afraid of imagination, of fantasy, is that their world becomes so narrow that I don't see how they can imagine beyond what their senses can verify. We know from science that there are entire worlds that our senses can't verify.

Many people are angry when they make a mistake, but very few people have the sense to be sorry.