“...hear the language, this English, double-jointed as Bedivere's limbs. It only sounds awkward. In its ability to join one concept to another as with pegs, its dependent clauses, figures of speech and cadenced alliteration, a man can say one thing five ways and yet imply a sixth; can change meaning with an inflection, a pause or a deliberate misuse of a word, can mock, scorn and flay an opponent without uttering one overt insult.”

“Lovers have a language that can be lost--how to speak, how to touch, when to try.”

“I’ve learned and unlearned all my life; it’s helped me to survive. There are no constants, nothing is immutable, only random circumstance from which our experience builds a coherent arc of life. And for that arc you have only to be truly done with one thing before moving to another. There’s an art in letting go.”

“Tomorrow belongs to those who can learn. For those who can’t, there’s only yesterday.”

“You go through it like a dark room, you sweat, you fear, the fear passes, you come out of it and utter nothing but meaningless words about what you saw or felt.”

“We play very dangerous games with life and no one knows our rules.”

“...for one instant, I saw the stars close enough to touch. Closer than that, part of me. Are they really so far or just that we never reach for them?”