What we need,' Henry says, 'is a fresh start. A blank slate. Let's call her Tabula Rasa.

He thanked her and left the house in the mood of a shipwrecked man who has allowed the rescue ship to pass him by.

I look at him, look at the book, remember, this book, this moment, the first book I ever loved

‎I never wanted to have anything in my life that I couldn't stand losing. But it's too late for that.

Why do you have a cigarette lighter in your glove compartment?" her husband, Jack, asked her. "I'm bored with knitting. I've taken up arson

Each spine was an encapsulated memory, each book represented hours, days of pleasure, of immersion into words.

...she could express her soul with that voice, whenver I listened to her I felt my life meant more than mere biology...she could really hear, she understood structure and she could analyze exactly what it was about a piece of music that had to be rendered just so...she was a very emotional person, Annette. She brought that out in other people. After she died I don't think I ever really felt anything again.