“Hey, we live each day, start each day, as if we had an endless number stretching out ahead of us. We don't, but that's how one has to face the day, right? I see an analogy with writing fiction: the story at hand probably won't come off well, and even if it does, it probably won’t get published, but if it does there won't be any payment for it - and even if there is, almost nobody will read it, and most who do won't understand or like it. But you go ahead and write the story. What choices do you have? There's always silence, but that won't do for me.” - Gordon Weaver (who is suddenly my hero, even though I don't know who he is).”

“There are books full of great writing that don't have very good stories. Read sometimes for the story... don't be like the book-snobs who won't do that. Read sometimes for the words--the language. Don't be like the play-it-safers who won't do that. But when you find a book that has both a good story and good words, treasure that book.”

“I know that there will always be someone who won't get the stories, or who won't like them. You cannot please everyone, unfortunately. It won't stop me from writing. Nothing can do that, because it has always been my passion.It's like the stories live inside of me, and they project onto the page through my typing and my pencil. I can see them play like movies on a screen, and to me, they are beautiful.”

“Tell me, Harry, what difference would it make if it wasn't real?"Harry thought a moment, his chinless face sour. "We wouldn't have to do what we think we have to do. But even if we don't have to do what we think we have to do, it won't make any difference if we do it Which means we should just go ahead."Mavis sighed. "Just go ahead.""Just go ahead," said Hagbard. "A powerful mantra.""And if we don't go ahead," said George, "it doesn't matter either. Which means that we just do go ahead.""Another powerful mantra," said Hagbard. "Just do go ahead.”

“I realized aloud in the midst of saying it that even when we die we probably don't find the answer as to why we were ever alive. [...] Do you realize that! We'll never know why the hell any of it happened, not even when it's over! We're going to die and not even know. We'll never know, and all this meaningless will just go on and on and on. And we won't any longer be witnesses to it. We won't have even that little bit of power to give meaning to it in our minds. We'll just be gone, dead, dead, dead, without ever knowing.”

“Maybe I can quit drinking one of these days. They all say that, don't they?""It takes about three years.""Three years?" He looked shocked. "Usually it does. It's a different world. You have to get used to a paler set of colors, a quieter lot of sounds. You have to allow for relapses. All the people you used to know well will get to be just a little strange. You won't even like most of them, and they won't like you too well.”