“There is no shortage of fault to be found amid our stars.”

You do not immortalize the lost by writing about them. Language buries, but does not resurrect.

He liked the mere act of reading, the magic of turning scratches on a page into words inside his head.

We just did an awesome job of not dying.

Maybe our favorite quotations say more about us than about the stories and people we’re quoting.

Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book.

I don’t think your missing pieces ever fit inside you again once they go missing.

I’m not saying that everything is survivable. Just that everything except the last thing is.

It’s just that most really good-looking people are stupid, so I exceed expectations.

The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive.

You are helpful, and you are loved, and you are forgiven, and you are not alone.

You don’t remember what happened. What you remember becomes what happened.

They love their hair because they’re not smart enough to love something more interesting.

Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.

What a slut time is. She screws everybody.

If you don’t imagine, nothing ever happens at all.

Every year, many, many stupid people graduate from college. And if they can do it, so can you.

All the passions make us commit faults; love makes us commit the most ridiculous ones.

Most of our faults are more pardonable than the means we use to conceal them.

Timidity is a fault for which it is dangerous to reprove persons whom we wish to correct of it.

The defects and faults of the mind are like wounds in the body; after all imaginable care has been taken to heal them up, still there will be a scar left behind, and they are in continual danger of breaking the skin and bursting out again.

If we had no faults of our own, we should not take so much pleasure in noticing those in others.

We confess our little faults to persuade people that we have no large ones.

Liberals have invented whole college majors – psychology, sociology and women’s studies – to prove that nothing is anybody’s fault.

We still don’t like to admit the war was even partly our fault because so many of our people died.