The fingers on his flesh told him he was loved, that he had always been loved, and that the world was a place where above all else things that were good would find a way to burrow into you.

You don't choose what to believe. Belief chooses you.

If you don't allow yourself the possibility of writing something very, very bad, it would be hard to write something very good.

A weapon does not decide whether or not to kill. A weapon is a manifestation of a decision that has already been made.

Do you know the difference between an optimist and a pessimist? A pessimist says ‘Oh dear, things can’t possibly get any worse.’ And an optimist says, ‘Don’t be so sad. Things can always get worse.

By the time the last few notes fade, his hope will be restored, but each time he's force to resort to the Adagio it becomes harder, and he knows its effect is finite. There are only a certain number of Adagios left in him, and he will not recklessly spend this precious currency.

It's a rare gift to understand that your life is wondrous, and that it won't last forever.