Never buy one of anything and make two boys share it.

You're only as wanted as you are needed, and you're only as loved as you feel.

Sometimes the grass really IS greener on the other side and you're happier, until you step in shit and realize the cows are all the same.

Treasure means nothing unless it is discovered and even then the value depends entirely on who discovers it.

Small boys were a mystery to Sylvie. The satisfaction they gained from throwing sticks or stones for hours on end, the obsessive collection of inanimate objects, the brutal destruction of the fragile world around them, all seemed at odds with the men they were supposed to become.

All wars are boyish, and are fought by boys