Festina Lente (Hurry in slowly)

Every writer hopes his or her book will be its own thing.

When you handle books all day long, every new one is a friend and a temptation.

He brought his great hand to rest on an early edition of Bram Stoker's novel and smiled, but said nothing. Then he moved quietly away into another section.

...History it seemed could be something entirely different a splash of blood whose agony didn't fade overnight or over centuries.

He can't really love anyone, you know, and in the end such people are always alone, no matter how much other people once loved them.

It was strange, I reflected.. that even in the weirdest circumstances, the most troubling episodes of one's life, the greatest divides from home and familiarity, there were these moments of undeniable joy.