It's quite rare to find someone who sees the same world you see.

But I was beginning to learn that your life is a story told about you, not one that you tell.

I draw because words are too unpredictable.
I draw because words are too limited.
If you speak and write in English, or Spanish, or Chinese, or any other language, then only a certain percentage of human beings will get your meaning.
But when you draw a picture, everybody can understand it.

Life makes fools of us all sooner or later. But keep your sense of humour and you'll at least be able to take your humiliation with some measure of grace. In the end, you know, it's our own expectations that crush us. (628)

To believe in explanations is good, because it means you may believe also that beneath the chaotic, mindless jumble of everything, beneath the horrible sis junction you feel at every moment between you and all you are not, there dwells in the universe a secret harmony, a coherence and rightness like a balanced equation that's out of reach for now but some day will reveal itself in its entirety. (521)

...thinking that to do anything, epic or mundane, bound for glory or doomed to failure, is in its way to say goodbye to a world; that the greatest victories are therefore never with the shadow of a loss; that every path you take, no matter how lofty or effulgent, aches not only with the memory of what you left behind, but with the ghosts of the intake paths, now never to be taken, running parallel...

Pg. 311

Life... not as exciting as you once thought.

Leo understood the nasty pull of the regrettable familiar, how the old grooves could be so much more satisfying than the looming unknown.
Pg. 240