So this is supposed to be about the how, and when, and why, and what of reading -- about the way that, when reading is going well, one book leads to another and to another, a paper trail of theme and meaning; and how, when it's going badly, when books don't stick or take, when your mood and the mood of the book are fighting like cats, you'd rather do anything but attempt the next paragraph, or reread the last one for the tenth time.

You had to live in your own bubble. You couldn't force your way into someone else's, because then it wouldn't be a bubble any more.

Hard is trying to rebuild yourself, piece by piece, with no instruction book, and no clue as to where all the important bits are supposed to go.

You have to work at relationships. You can’t just walk out on them every time something goes wrong.

Women who disapprove of men - and there's plenty to disapprove of - should remember how we started out, and how far we had to travel.

Even bad times have good things in them to make you feel alive.

The unhappiest people I know, romantically speaking, are the ones who like pop music the most; and I don't know whether pop music has caused this unhappiness, but I do know that they've been listening to the sad songs longer than they've been living the unhappy lives.