Emotions, in my experience aren't covered by single words. I don't believe in "sadness," "joy," or "regret." I'd like to have at my disposal complicated hybrid emotions, Germanic traincar constructions like, say, "the happiness that attends disaster." Or: "the disappointment of sleeping with one's fantasy." ... I'd like to have a word for "the sadness inspired by failing restaurants" as well as for "the excitement of getting a room with a minibar." I've never had the right words to describe my life.

Paris was a museum displaying exactly itself.

We listened to them, but it was clear they'd received too much therapy to know the truth.

Detroit's a great music town. If your interaction with it was mainly musical, I'm sure you have a good opinion of the place.

I think it is important to remind people of the extent of our free will.

She understood that her heart operated on its own instructions, that she had no control over it or, indeed, anything else.

Though at this moment she felt abused, abandoned, and ashamed of herself, Madeleine knew that she was still young, that she had her whole life ahead of her--a life in which, if she persevered, she might do something special--and that part of persevering meant getting past moments just like this one, when people made you feel small, unlovable, and took away your confidence.