We are philosophers; we cannot help being.

    — Murray Bail, from The Pages

[When he spoke, his words were as quiet as the twilight, too, not loud, because they did not need to be because they would last. “Courage, and honor, and pride,” his father said, “and pity, and love of justice and of liberty. They all touch the heart, and what the heart holds to becomes truth, as far as we know the truth. Do you see now?”
Sam, and Old Ben, and Nip, he thought. And himself too. He had been all right too. His father had said so.] “Yes, sir,” he said.

    — William Faulkner, from “The Bear”

[“Good,” he says.] He reaches his hand out and wraps his pinky around mine.

    — Colleen Hoover, from Hopeless

So now that you’ve finished the book, read it again.

    — John G. Miller, from The Question Behind the Question 

[Garion sighed.] “Yes, dear,” he said.

    — David and Leigh Eddings, from Belgarath the Sorcerer

Our bones
end hollow, sky blue; the flute comes untuned.

    — Erin Belieu, from “All Distance”