“I could write pages of poetry about you. And yet words never seem to say enough.”

If I am to be only a passing season in your life, I hope I be spring.

Let me be like the leaves on the trees. Let me sway with the gentlest breeze.

If trees looked at fallen leaves and gave up, we would have no forests.

Not all love lives forever. But is it not love still? The maybe and the almost. And the love that never will.

I have loved you and missed you all for so long. That even this feeling feels like home.

You’re the kind of song, I want to hear on repeat. For a lifetime.

Like the endless stars in the skies. I love you, more than you know. And I miss you, more than I am allowed.

Maybe when I pour my words on paper. Maybe it’ll feel like how it might feel wrapping you in my arms.

When you love, I hope you don’t sail. I hope you drown.

Be your own flower. And bloom.

Just because you’re leaving, doesn’t mean I’m letting go.

I was supposed to be your sunshine. But it rained.

Like flowers, I hope, My love makes you bloom.

I’m a little bit scared of how you make me feel.

Every day I hope to be with you. And every day I let you go.

Love. And let it break your heart. For what is life without love.

As you read a book word by word and page by page, you participate in its creation, just as a cellist playing a Bach suite participates, note by note, in the creation, the coming-to-be, the existence, of the music.

Examining the world in order to find consolation is very much like looking carefully over the pages of a great book in order to find our own name . … Whether we find what we want or not, our preoccupation has hindered us from a true knowledge of the contents.

After I got that hit off Satchel (Paige), I knew I was ready for the big leagues.

He must train himself in ruthless intolerance-that is to throw away anything that is false no matter how much he might love that page or that paragraph.

I can read a four-page scene once and have it memorized. It’s a skill you learn in school: disposable cramming.

Whatever is on the page is what I’m married to. I’m very prepared. I’m a thespian. I don’t like to improv. I don’t like to go off course ’cause I think that’s where stuff happens. When you stick to the material ’cause it’s written so well, that’s where the magic happens.

The prank of a page- boy, the blunder of a servant, a bit of table talk – they are all part of the curriculum.

You are a writer bleeding words onto a page. And the ones who hate you will trample on that page. And the ones who love you will cut you, to keep you bleeding.