“It seemed to him that nothing would ever be explained, and that all of a sudden each day was slipping away, that time was flying by and they were getting old and nothing would ever come clear.”

“If nothing else, now we knew where to find each other, even if only time would tell if either of us would ever come looking.”

“There was nothing to do about him. It was Easter Sunday and the Fascists were advancing toward the Ebro. It was a gray overcast day with a low ceiling so their planes were not up. That and the fact that cats know how to look after themselves was all the good luck that old man would ever have.”

“Would age now swiftly overtake him? Would this terrible nodding last now for all his days, so that men said aloud in his presence, it is nothing, he is old and does nothing but forget? And would he nod as though he too were saying, Yes, it is nothing, I am old and do nothing but forget? But who would know that he said, I do nothing but remember?”

“There is nothing like the smell of books, both new and old. If someone ever bottled the smell, I would be all over it .”

“Live and everyone would die. Die and everyone would live. It seemed like such a simple choice. But nothing is ever as simple as it seems.”