[...] I learned from those evening recitals that music could ache and hurt, that beautiful music was a place a suffering man could hide. - Pat Conroy

Lightning flashed around the island; thunder played its favorite game of scaring the crap out of all the shivering mortals on the earth below.

I can't pass a bookstore without slipping inside, looking for the next book that will burn my hand when I touch its jacket, or hand me over a promissory note of such immense power that it contains the formula that will change everything about me.

"I didn't get the point," said Pig. "That's because you've got four pounds of provolone where most people got brains!" Mark shouted, shaking his fist. "This is college, you dumb bastard. This is a place where you're supposed to argue and learn and get pissed off. You don't go around choking your buddies just because they don't happen to believe what you believe."