Paris was a universe whole and entire unto herself, hollowed and fashioned by history; so she seemed in this age of Napoleon III with her towering buildings, her massive cathedrals, her grand boulevards and ancient winding medieval streets - as vast and indestructible as nature itself.

And books, they offer one hope -- that a whole universe might open up from between the covers, and falling into that universe, one is saved.

Invest in a feather duster - the possibilities are endless.

-You are on the verge of being truly mad. -No, not at all. Look at me. I can tie my shoelaces. See?

I like to read things I've read before. It's like listening over and over to your favorite song.

One will hate you for taking his life, another will run to excesses that you scorn. A third will emerge mad and raving, another a monster you cannot control. One will be jealous of your superiority, another shut you out... And the veil will always come down between you Make a legion, you will be, always and forever alone!

Life itself must be founded upon the infinite possibility for choice and accident. And if we cannot prove that it is, we must believe that it is. We must believe that we can change, that we can control, that we can direct our own destinies.