The point is that although love may die, what is said on its behalf cannot be consumed by the passage of time, and forgiveness is everything.

What a midwesterner he was, a thoroughly unhip guy with his heart in the usual place, on the sleeve, in plain sight.

Gainfully unemployed, very proud of it, too.

When you break the heart of the philosopher, you must apply great force and cunning strategy, but when the deed is completed, the heart lies in great stony ruin at your feet. If you succeed in breaking it, the job is done once and for all. It will not be repaired.

Needing something is not the same thing as being interested in the thing itself.

When all the details fit in perfectly, something is probably wrong with the story.

You think that what I've told you is an anecdote. But really it isn't. It's my whole life. It's the only story I have.