Even if you have loved only once in your life, you're ruined.

Reading reassures us that no matter how alone we might feel, there are many others - spread as wide as history itself - who have felt the same way we have, who have occupied the rooms we find ourselves locked in at various points of our lives.

Love requires imagination more than experience.

Anyone who is desperate or alone will agree there is comfort in routine.

When Bach died some of his children sold his scores to the butcher they had decided the paper was more useful for wrapping meat. In a small village in Germany a father brought home a limp goose wrapped in paper that was covered with strange and beautiful symbols.

The present grows within the boundaries of the past.

I wanted to explain that trusting is harder than being trusted.