He's the kind of man who was born to rise and rise: a human elevator. (p.7) - Jeanette Winterson

We didn't build our bridges simply to avoid walking on water. Nothing so obvious. A bridge is a meeting place. A neutral place. A casual place. Enemies will choose to meet on a bridge and end their quarrel in that void...For lovers, a bridge is a possibility, a metaphor of their chances. And for the traffic in whispered goods, where else but a bridge in the night? (p.57)

Why is the measure of love... loss? pg.9

It is easy to be selfish. It is hard to love who I am. No wonder I am surprised if you do. (p. 199)