There's never been anything funny about a woman dying for love.

He had won but he didn't feel like a winner.

She just happened to feel like it. Wasn’t that after all, the only reason there was? Had she ever had a less selfish, more complicated reason for doing anything in her life?

He took each fact as it came and let it slip painlessly into the back of his mind, thinking, Okay, okay, I'll think about that one later; and that one; and that one; so that the alert, front part of his mind could remain free enough to keep him in command of the situation.

Anybody's marriage might benefit from an occasional embargo on talk.

Do you know what the definition of insane is? Yes. It’s the inability to relate to another human being. It’s the inability to love.

Why did everything always change when all you wanted, all you had ever humbly asked of whatever God there might be, was that certain things be allowed to stay the same?