he'd once believed that the answer lay somehow in the music he created, he suspected now that He'd been mistaken. The more he thought about it, the more he'd come to realize that for him, music had always been a movement away from reality rather than a means of living in it more deeply. .. he now knew that burying himself in music had less to do with God than a selfish desire to escape.

I have some art, but I am a hobbyist. I would not consider myself an expert but in the course of writing this novel I became very familiar with the various movements in American Modern Art from 1900 onwards.

Change not only was inevitable, but usually brought its own rewards.

Now, she could't help but think he was just a big version of a jealous boy friend.

How far would you go to keep the hope of love alive?

It would be like describing colors to someone blind from birth: The words might be understood, but the concept would remain mysterious and private.

in all the years we spend together, I never once regretted the fact that I had chosen her and that she had chosen me as well.