I realised the amazing power of literature and of the human imagination generally: to make the dead live and to stop the living from dying.

A picture was a motionless record of motion. An arrested representation of life. A picture was the kiss of death pretending to possess immutability.

Graveyards remind us of the vanity of all human endeavour.

If we lose our memory, we lose ourselves. Forgetting is one of the symptoms of death. Without memory we cease to be human beings.

...there is little that comes so close to death as fulfilled love.

Man is afraid to attain what he longs for, just as subconsciously he longs for what he is afraid of.

The world is like an enormous set of scales. When evil begins to outweigh good, angels cram themselves in on the lighter side. You can't see them, but there they are, restoring the balance.