“wait... promise me one more thing: if tomorrow you wake up feeling unoriginal or frail-hearted or faithless or tired of this world please pick up this book and start back at page one.”

“One day, you and I are gonna wake up and be alright. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but one day. One day. I promise you.”

“He was beastly tired, but it was hard to stop. One more book, he had told himself, then I'll stop. One more folio, just one more. One more page, then I'll go up and rest and get a bite to eat. But there was always another page after that one, and another after that, and another book waiting underneath the pile. I'll just take a quick peek to see what this one is about, he'd think, and before he knew he would be halfway through it.”

“Sometimes, upon waking, the residual dream can be more appealing that reality, and one is reluctant to give it up. For a while, you feel like a ghost -- Not fully materialized, and unable to manipulate your surroundings. Or else, it is the dream that haunts you. You wait with the promise of the next dream.”

“Tomorrow, is the first blank page of a 365 page book. Write a good one.”

“It was funny how dad was more honest in a book that anyone in the world could pick up and read than he could be talking to me. Or maybe it was sad. One or the other. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”