“That's what I told myself five hundred times: impossibility. I can tell you this much: the word is a great big log thrown on the fires of love. ~Page 133.”

“Then, if you love him," he said quietly, "please, Tessa, don't tell him what I just told you. Don't tell him that I love you.”

“How can I tell you that I love you, I love you
But I can’t think of right words to say.”

“About me, nothing worse they will tell you, my love, than what I told you”

“I didn't mean to send love letters, but that is what they became. On their way to you, my words turned into heartbeats on the page.”

“Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they've been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It's an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It's a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing.”

“Early in my public labors I was bidden by the Lord, "Write, write the things that are revealed to you." At the time this message came to me, I could not hold my hand steady. My physical condition made it impossible for me to write. But again came the word, "Write the things that are revealed to you." I obeyed; and as the result it was not long before I could write page after page with comparative ease. Who told me what to write? Who steadied my right hand, and made it possible for me to use a pen?”

“Great loves have legs and wings. They are substantial. They do not dissapate so easily… Great loves have staying power. Or so I told myself.”

“A person with no children says, "Well I just love children," and you say "Why?" and they say, "Because a child is so truthful, that's what I love about 'em — they tell the truth." That's a lie, I've got five of 'em. The only time they tell the truth is if they're having pain.”

“The bard, the warrior, and the sage,
What win they but one lying page,
Where deeds and words, at hazard thrown,
May be or may not be their own?”