"...Just because a person realizes how lucky he was doesn't mean that he's prepared to stop being lucky." (p 265) - Gail Hareven

Love can be described as compulsive thinking. The thought buzzes and buzzes like an insect stuck to a wet picture...Compulsive thinking latches on to details and dwells on them as if they hold enormous significance which cannot be grasped in a moment. It keeps returning to them again and again as if there is still something left to understand. The more I think about the meaning of these gestures the sicker I get of my thoughts and of myself for thinking them. (p34-5)

what does it help me to know that the heart is a muscle, just a blood-pumping muscle, if my heart still goes out to him, and the bloody muscle still yearns and swells? (p38)

Anyone who grew up like I did will always see the room from the point of view of the maid who comes to clean it. (p198)