Why did death make life taste so much sweeter? Why could the heart love only what it could also lose?
It's a good idea to have your own books with you in a strange place
Mo could paint pictures in the empty air with his voice alone.
A library book, I imagine, is a happy book.
Books are like flypaper, memories cling to the printed pages better than anything else.
I remember the feeling. Whenever my father got so absorbed in a book that we might have been in visible I felt like taking a pair of scissors and cutting it up.