Its unfortunate and I really wish I wouldn't have to say this, but I really like human beings who have suffered. They're kinder.
Piracy is our only option.
Can he love her? Can the soul really be satisfied with such polite affections? To love is to burn — to be on fire, like Juliet or Guinevere or Eloise…
I think books are like people, in the sense that they'll turn up in your life when you most need them.
