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Kindle Notes & Highlights
When a long book succeeds, the writer and reader are not just having an affair; they are married.
Once you started eating shit, it had a way of becoming your regular diet.
quot libros, quam breve tempus—so many books, so little time
She could laugh at herself, and often did. She said being able to do that was the only thing that kept her sane.
I thought we were okay, but the truth of it—you never see these things at the time, do you?—is that we were both hysterical.
I agreed, but I could see the doubt eating into her like acid.
Example.
If you’re asking why bad things happen to good people, you’ve come to the wrong place.”
Blame is counterproductive.
People who call themselves realists are often the biggest optimists of all.”
They were well matched, at least in the short term; she was fiery iron, straight from the forge, and he—in his apartment filled with books—was the water in which she cooled herself.
It was probably the best idea—write what you know, all the experts agreed on that—but
It occurred to him that spite was a kind of methadone for lovers, and better than going cold turkey.
Living well isn’t the best revenge; loving well is.”
He thought one of the universal truths of life was that, sooner or later, someone always paid.
“You can get to the person, but you can’t get to the evil,”
“The Tower trembles; the worlds shudder in their courses. The rose feels a chill, as of winter.”
“The ideas don’t stop just because one is old. The body weakens, but the words never do.”
God’s grace is a pretty cool concept. It stays intact every time it’s not you.
She was my heart, and I guard what’s there.
I hate the assumption that you can’t write about something because you haven’t experienced it, and not just because it assumes a limit on the human imagination, which is basically limitless.
Ah, King... how you speak volumes with such words.
Life was a short shelf that came with bookends.
Some people have remarkably sturdy illusions.
Memory’s job was not only to recall the past but to burnish it.
I’ve said before, and must reiterate, that stories are like dreams: vivid while in process, then quickly fading when the work is done.
