I sit at my window and the words fly past me like birds — with God's help I catch some.

that expression you get in your eyes when you are very tired and everything is like a dream and you are starting to know what things are like underneath what people say they are.

very few people change after well say seven or seventeen. Not really. They get more this or more that and of course look a bit different. But inside they are the same.

I am empty of everything. I am empty of everything but the thin, frail ghosts in my room.

She had left me thirsty and all my life would be thirst and longing for what I had lost before I found it.

Not that she objected to solitude. Quite the contrary. She had books, thank Heaven, quantities of books. All sorts of books.

You can pretend for a long time, but one day it all falls away and you are alone. We are alone in the most beautiful place in the world.