The Reader

by Bernhard Schlink

It’s hard to guess ages when you’re not that old yourself and won’t be anytime soon.

If looking at someone with desire was as bad as satisfying the desire, if having an active fantasy was as bad as the act you were fantasizing—then why not the satisfaction and the act itself?

I also remember that the smallest gesture of affection would bring a lump to my throat, whether it was directed at me or at someone else. Sometimes all it took was a scene in a movie. This juxtaposition of callousness and extreme sensitivity seemed suspicious even to me.

escape involves not just running away, but arriving somewhere.