The injury of words. Yes, the brutality of words.

Maybe one morning I’ll wake up and step outside of myself to look back at the old me lying dead among the sheets.

I always marvel at the humans' ability to keep going. They always manage to stagger on even with tears streaming down their faces.

You’re a human, you should understand self-obsession.

I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.

Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you've finished just to stay near it.

It's funny, don't you think, how time seems to do a lot of things? It flies, it tells, and worst of all, it runs out.

They'd been standing like that for thirty seconds of forever.

Maybe everyone can live beyond what they're capable of.

I guess that’s the beauty of books. When they finish they don’t really finish.

It's not a big thing, but I guess it's true--big things are often just small things that are noticed.

I have to say that although it broke my heart, I was, and still am, glad I was there.

Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.

Reply when questioned on the safety of the polio vaccine he developed: It is safe, and you can't get safer than safe.

If humankind would accept and acknowledge this responsibility and become creatively engaged in the process of evolution, consciously as well as unconsciously, a new reality would emerge, and a new age could be born.

The art of science is as important as so-called technical science. You need both. It's this combination that must be recognized and acknowledged and valued.

When you inoculate children with a polio vaccine, you don't sleep well for two or three months.

My job is to help people see what I see. If it's of value, fine. And, if it's not of value, then at least I've done what I can do.

Intuition will tell the thinking mind where to look next.