Heaven is a house with porch lights.
What church could compete with the fireworks of the pure soul?
I never went to college, so I went to the library.
Old men only lie in wait for people to ask them to talk. Then they rattle on like a rusty elevator wheezing up a shaft.
I believe in Darwin and God together.
People ask me to predict the future, when all I want to do is prevent it.
The jungle looked back at them with a vastness, a breathing moss-and-leaf silence, with a billion diamond and emerald insect eyes.
I’ve learned that by doing things, things get done.
All silence is. All emptiness. And now: The dawn.
We meet on the common ground of an uncommon age and share out our gifts of dark and light, good and bad, simple joy and not so simple sorrow.
I believe the universe created us we are an audience for miracles. In that sense, I guess, I’m religious.
Marriage made people old and familiar, while still young.
I have something to fight for and live for; that makes me a better killer. I’ve got what amounts to a religion, now .
The gods had gone away, and the ritual of the religion continued senselessly, uselessly.
The stars are yours, if you have the head, the hands, and the heart for them.
They stood there, King of the Hill, Top of the Heap, Ruler of All They Surveyed, Unimpeachable Monarchs and Presidents, trying to understand what it meant to own a world and how big a world really was.
Disbelief is catching. It rubs off on people.
A book has got to smell. You have to hold it in your hands and pray to it.
At the top of your lungs, shout and listen to the echoes. You must live life at the top of your voice!
I was one of Them: the Strange Ones. The Funny People. The Odd Tribes of autograph collectors and photographers. The Ones who waited through long days and nights, who used other people’s dreams for their lives.