He didn't know of course. Not really. And yet that was what he said, and I was soothed to hear it. For I knew what he meant. We all have our sorrows, and although the exact delineaments, weight, and dimensions of grief are different for everyone, the color of grief is common to us all. "I know," he said, because he was human, and therefore, in a way, he did.

I read *old* novels. The reason is simple. I prefer proper endings.

The funeral was over, at last I could cry. Except that I couldn't. My tears, kept in too long, had fossilized. They would have to stay in forever now.

Of course I loved books more than people.

A good story is always more dazzling than a broken piece of truth.

She was a do-gooder, which means that all the ill she did, she did without realizing it.

Boys do not leave their boyhood behind when they leave off their school uniform.