He just thought quietly, 'So this is love. I see, I was wrong about it too', thinking as he had thought before and would think again and as every oth… - William Faulkner

Perhaps they were right putting love into books. Perhaps it could not live anywhere else.

...how false the most profound book turns out to be when applied to life.

...thinking as he had thought before and would think again and as every other man has thought: how false the most profound book turns out to be when applied to life.

Perhaps love cannot live anywhere but books.

They continued to jeer at him, but he said nothing more. He leaned on the rail, looking down at the trout which he had already spent, and suddenly the acrimony, the conflict, was gone from their voices…they too partaking of that adult trait of being convinced of anything by an assumption of silent superiority. I suppose that people, using themselves and each other so much by words, are at least consistent in attributing wisdom to a still tongue…

A man. All men. He will pass up a hundred chances to do good for one chance to meddle where meddling is not wanted. He will overlook and fail to see chances, opportunities, for riches and fame and welldoing, and even sometimes for evil. But he won't fail to see a chance to meddle.

...only the peak feels so sound and stable that the beginning of the falling is hidden for a little while...