“While I thus cogitate in disquiet and perplexity, half submerged in dark waters of a well in an Arabian oasis, I suddenly hear a voice from the background of my memory, the voice of an old Kurdish nomad: If water stands motionless in a pool it grows stale and muddy, but when it moves and flows it becomes clear: so, too, man in his wanderings. Whereupon, as if by magic, all disquiet leaves me. I begin to look upon myself with distant eyes, as you might look at the pages of a book to read a story from them; and I begin to understand that my life could not have taken a different course. For when I ask myself, 'What is the sum total of my life?' somthing in me seems to answer, 'You have set out to exchange one world for another-to gain a new world for yourself in exchange for an old one which you never really possessed.”

“Running water never grows stale. So you just have to 'keep on flowing.”

“When I find myself not knowing what to do, that’s when I do nothing and wait until I can hear that voice again, and suddenly, things are clicking again, and I am in that FLOW!”

“Zach,” I said as I lay there “Where did you go? When you were looking for me?”
I shifted in his arms, looked into his eyes.
“Crazy.” His voice was a whisper against my skin. “I went crazy.”

“Yes, I'm actually a fan of all things Disney, I utilize that in my craft, because I think Disney movies are crafted so well that they can be studied as well as film can be studied. What people do is they hear it in my voice, they can hear him in my voice, because he is me, he's not like a made-up character, he is me they can hear it in my voice, and when they hear that they ask "Are you the guy who played Sebastian the crab, because you look like him."”

“He took his lute—his voice was low,
So lapsing waters softly flow
Amid the drooping flowers around,
As if they turned their sighs to sound.
Ah, magic! of a voice that seems
To haunt the soul with hopes and dreams;”

“I'm sorry that my voice was hard.
Look down on yourselves from the stars, I cried,
look down on yourselves from the stars.
They heard me and lowered their eyes.”

“I have seen the Mississippi. That is muddy water. I have seen the Saint Lawrence. That is clear water. But the Thames is liquid history.”

“Al's voice was faint but resolute. "Stand up. Try to look sexy."

"In a bedsheet?" I complained, running my hands down it. "How can I look sexy in a bedsheet?" He cleared his throat, and I grimaced. "Never mind.”

“I am a dreamer of words, of written words. I think I am reading; a word stops me. I leave the page. The syllables of the word begin to move around. Stressed accents begin to invert. The word abandons its meaning like an overload which is too heavy and prevents dreaming. Then words take on other meanings as if they had the right to be young. And the words wander away, looking in the nooks and crannies of vocabulary for new company, bad company.”