“Time was spinning numerous threads for its tapestry, some to be woven together, some to entangle or fray, others merely to perish and pass away.”

“It is hundreds of tiny threads of memories, which sew people together through the years. Despite, their mental separation they stay woven into that tapestry out of habit, emotion, obsession or fear.”

“There are days when I think there really is some huge great tapestry of a plan out there and we're all woven into it - this fabulous, complex pattern of life and death, full of recurring motifs and waves of color, and we're each one tiny thread in the weave.”

“I have often believed the pen to be a needle, and ink to be a thread. Each story is an intricately woven tapestry and with each word I invariably sew a piece of myself into the page.”

“She was held together by a thread. Not even a strong fishing wire, but the kind of thread that could fray and break in the wind. A thread that could unravel at any moment, scattering and smashing all the pieces of her that she as trying desperately to keep together.”

“I leaned over to cover him with the blanket he had been promising to give away to charity for years, and I kissed his forehead, as if by doing so I could protect him from the invisible threads that kept him away from me, from that tiny apartment, and from my memories. As if I believed that with that kiss I could deceive time and convince it to pass us by, to return some other day, some other life.”