“James Jackson actually made menacing faces at the Quakers in the gallery, calling them outright lunatics, then launched into a tirade so emotional and incoherent that reporters in the audience had difficulty recording his words.”

“When I started to my roost, Jake grabbed my arm, pulling me against him. “Sleep with me,” he whispered in my ear.I jerked away, ready to launch into a tirade for him playing on my emotions to put the moves on me when the tormented expression on his face stopped me cold.He stared pleadingly into my eyes. “I’m still so fucking scared, Angel. I need someone just to hold tonight so I won’t be alone.”

“...this time I didn't launch into my usual tirade. Was it a memory of Krishna, the cool silence with which he countered disagreement, that stopped me? I saw something I hadn't realized before: words wasted energy.”

“Captain Jibby looked at the door, clenched his teeth, and worked his face into a scowl so fierce you would think the door had insulted his mother - which, for the record, it had not.”

“Whenever he was unclear about some idea or emotion, uncertain in his perception of someone or vague about a memory, he sat to his journal and wrote as precisely as he could what he thought or felt or remembered, and thereby gave those thoughts and feelings and memories the solidity and authority of words recorded on a page. And by that simple act made of them his abiding truth.”

“The true artist is one who can evoke those raw emotions in their audience, bring them to their knees, and convey their message to them in a foreign tongue. Or without words at all. That type of power is immeasurable.”