It seems to me that good novels celebrate the mystery in ordinary life, and summing it all up in psychological terms strips the mystery away

One sad thing about this world is that the acts that take the most out of you are usually the ones that people will never know about. (from 'Celestial Navigation')

She worded it a bit strongly, but I do find myself more and more struck by the differences between the sexes. To put it another way: All marriages are mixed marriages.

I wonder how many times we dream that kind of dream-something strange and illogical-and fail to realize God is trying to tell us something.

Everything was leveled, there were no extremes of joy or sorrow any more but only habit, routine, ancient family names and rites and customs, slow careful old people moving cautiously around furniture that had sat in the same positions for fifty years.

Smells could bring a person back clearer than pictures even could.

How plotless real life was!