What about the future?" "We'll talk about the future when it gets here.

What about the future?" "We'll talk about the future when it gets here.

Of all the universal lies she accepted unquestioningly, the happy ending was the most absurd. The hero and heroine lived happily ever after, and the ending seemed indisputable, definitive. No questions asked about how long love or happiness lasts in that 'forever' that can be divided into lifetimes, years, months. Even days

he looked around at the books on the walls, at their dark, worn spines, and he seemed to hear a strange, distant murmur coming from them. each of the closed books was a door, and behind it stirred shadows, voices, sounds, heading toward him from a deep, dark place.

Becoming a book collector is like joining a religion: it’s for life.

You don't choose your friends, they choose you, and you either reject them or you accept them without reservations.

Never trust a man who reads only one book.