Her library filled her bookshelves and then overflowed into waist-high stacks of books everywhere, piled haphazardly against the walls. If just one of them moved... the domino effect could engulf the three of us in an asphyxiating mass of literature.

We’re as likely to hurt the universe as we are to help it, and we’re not likely to do either.

I wondered whether I could find a Great Perhaps here at all or whether I had made a grand miscalculation.

You're not boring. You've got to stop saying that, or people will start believing you.

I think that most of us [writers] would rather have an audience than countless riches. If we wanted to be rich, we'd be doing smething else.

Maybe this time she wanted to be found, and to be found by me.

I don't see any point in nihilism... just as I suppose the nihilist sees no point in everything else.