I prefer the society of one faithful person to an association of rapid talkers, who more than anything else seek admiration from one another.

Romance is not an idea, but a moment. An unspoken glance when someone looks into your eyes and knows exactly who you are, what you need.

Strangers talking over piles of books do not remain strangers for long.

Though a woman tempted man to eat, my dear Longfellow," said Holmes, "you never hear of Eve having to do with his drinking, for he took to that of his own notion.

Shakespeare brings us to know ourselves. Dante, with his dissection of all others, bids us to know one another.

Books do pretend ...but squeezed in between is even more that is true—without what you may call the lies, the pages would be too light for the truth, you see?

...and luckily I have enough in my head to balance what is wanting in my back.