The challenge of modern relationships: how to prove more interesting than the other's smartphone.

One kind of good book should leave you asking: how did the author know that about me?

Sublime places repeat in grand terms a lesson that ordinary life typically teaches viciously: that the universe is mightier than we are, that we are frail and temporary and have no alternative but to accept limitations on our will; that we must bow to necessities greater than ourselves.

Most of our childhood is stored not in photos, but in certain biscuits, lights of day, smells, textures of carpet.

Most of what makes a book 'good' is that we are reading it at the right moment for us.

The mind does most of its best thinking when we aren't there. The answers are there in the morning.

So many complaints boil down to the belly ache of the fragile, mortal, ignored ego in a vast and indifferent universe.