That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you're not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.

And in the end, we were all just humans...Drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.

When she saw him face to face their eyes met and brushed like birds’ wings. After that everything was all right, everything was wonderful, she knew that he was beginning to fall in love with her.

A man's social rank is determined by the amount of bread he eats in a sandwich.

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.

It is sadder to find the past again and find it inadequate to the present than it is to have it elude you and remain forever a harmonious conception of memory.

The afternoon had made them tranquil for a while, as if to give them a deep memory for the long parting the next day promised.