The boy felt jealous of the freedom of the wind, and saw that he could have the same freedom. There was nothing to hold him back except himself.

The Alchemist - Paulo Coelho, pg 30

Many more photos below.

Please blow your smoke elsewhere. My respiratory system, unfortunately, is below par. I suspect that I am the result of particularly weak conception on the part of my father. His sperm was probably emitted in a rather offhand manner.

A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole, pg 324

If it weren’t for her, there would never have been an empty space, or the need to fill it.

The History of Love - Nicole Krauss, pg 57

Every few minutes, someone would come and paint over the gray with a different-textured gray - one with a touch of gold or green or red. I was impressed with the variety of grays that existed. Human beings were so strange. All you had to do was sit still for ten minutes, and you could see the amazing variety of grays.

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle - Haruki Murakami, pg 61.

“I used to think that humor was the only way to appreciate how wonderful and terrible the world is, to celebrate how big life is. You know what I mean?” “Yes, of course.” “But now I think it’s the opposite. Humor is a way of shrinking from the wonderful and terrible world.”

Everything is Illuminated - Jonathan Safran Foer, pg 158