“The idea of a future without her wasn’t to be borne. She had by some mysterious metamorphosis become more beautiful than anyone else he had ever encountered.”

He thought that he had never seen anyone quite as beautiful, so absolutely necessary to his happiness. It wasn’t the first time he had fallen in love, but he knew that this was the last.

One falls in and out of love, but when one loves that is an entirely different matter, for that lasts through life and beyond, and is a rare thing.

He sighed deeply; to fall in love at first sight with this malodorous sleeping girl, with, as far as he could see.

No pretentions to beauty or even good looks, was something he had not expected. But falling in love, he had always understood, was unpredictable, and, as far as he was concerned, irrevocable.

How else would God speak to me, if not through my imagination?

I bleed like nobody else.

You can read Kant by yourself, if you wanted to; but you must share a joke with someone else.

You hope it translates to a common denominator with the people that they see something in their own life in there. Or they see something in somebody else’s life. That’s what’s fun about sharing art.

You could read Kant by yourself, if you wanted; but you must share a joke with some one else.

However greatly we distrust the sincerity of those we converse with, yet still we think they tell more truth to us than to anyone else.

I’ve never been a jealous person, and I’ve never felt built up by someone else’s failure – that’s a cheap thrill.

I have a very fun life. I don’t recommend it for anybody else, but it sure has been fun for me.