“You could try and understand people, you could read books and understand words and concepts and ideas, but you could never understand enough or have enough knowledge to keep away the surprises that both fate and human beings had in store.”

“It was all the things you could never understand and could never possess that made you ache.”

“You could care enough to keep a secret, but you could care enough to tell one, too.”

“You could put your confusion and upset and worries into whatever book you were reading. You could sort of set them down in there, and you could come out with your head on a little straighter. I don't why stories worked that way, but they did.”

“Truth was funny, because it was an insistent thing, maybe as powerful and insistent as some force of nature, the push of water or wind. You could keep it out only so long, but it had its own will and its own needs, and maybe you could keep it at bay with lies, but not for long, not for always.”

“Knowledge was a personal life preserver you could always count on when you were swimming in the deep end”

“Being needed was a handy trick. It could fill you up so full you never even noticed all the places that were empty.”