The more you learn, the less you fear. "Learn" not in the sense of academic study, but in the practical understanding of life.

(on grief) And you do come out of it, that’s true. After a year, after five. But you don’t come out of it like a train coming out of a tunnel, bursting through the downs into sunshine and that swift, rattling descent to the Channel; you come out of it as a gull comes out of an oil-slick. You are tarred and feathered for life.

...God knows you can have complication and difficulty without any compensating depth or seriousness

I dreamt that I woke up. It's the oldest dream of all, and I've just had it

Do we tend to recall the most important parts of a novel or those that speak most directly to us, the truest lines or the flashiest ones?

But I’ve been turning over in my mind the question of nostalgia, and whether I suffer from it. I certainly don’t get soggy at the memory of some childhood knickknack; nor do I want to deceive myself sentimentally about something that wasn’t even true at the time—love of the old school, and so on. But if nostalgia means the powerful recollection of strong emotions—and a regret that such feelings are no longer present in our lives—then I plead guilty.

Later on in life, you expect a bit of rest, don't you? You think you deserve it. I did, anyway. But then you begin to understand that the reward of merit is not life's business.