I believe talent is like electricity. We do not understand electricity. We use it. Electricity makes no judgement. You can plug into it, and light up a lamp, keep a heart pump going ... or you can electrocute a person with it. ... I think talent is like that.

The plague of racism is insidious, entering into our minds as smoothly and quietly and invisibly as floating airborne microbes enter into our bodies to find lifelong purchase in our bloodstreams.

Spirit is an invisible force made visible in all life.

Tragedy, no matter how sad, becomes boring to those not caught in its addictive caress.

Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try to understand each other, we may even become friends.

To be left alone on the tightrope of youth unknowing is to experience the excruciating beauty of full freedom and the threat of eternal indecision. Few, if any, survive their teens. Most surrender to the vague but murderous pressure of adult conformity. It becomes a constant battle with the superior forces of maturity.

There is no rationale that defends it and no attack that dissolves it.

Since time is the one immaterial object which we cannot influence-neither speed up nor slow down, add to nor diminish-it is an imponderably valuable gift.

Self-pity is in its early stage as snug as a feather mattress. Only when it hardens does it become uncomfortable.

Children's talent to endure stems from their ignorance of alternatives.