“If you’ve learned anything from your parents, it ought to be this—love works only when it’s mutual. Otherwise, eventually it becomes exactly what you call it—a meaningless word. For both parties.”

“When you’ve lost all your play, guess what love becomes. Work. Work that gets harder every hour.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to know when you’ve crossed the line from conscientious to compulsive. When you’re in the thick of an assignment, it’s easy to believe that you must spend so much time brainstorming, researching, writing, testing, revising or what-have-you. Often, it’s only after you’ve been working for hours on end that you realize that half the work you’ve been doing wasn’t actually necessary and that you’ve just wasted a lot of time.”

“When you love someone, there’s a pattern to the way you come together. You might not even realize it, but your bodies are choreographed: a touch on the hip, a stroke of the hair. A staccato kiss, break away, a longer one. It’s a routine, but not in the boring sense of the word. It’s just the way you’ve learned to fit.”

“Everyone’s done bad in their life. No one’s perfect. But what makes the difference between bad and good is learning from your mistakes. You’ve done that Siva. You’ve acknowledged that you’ve done bad and you’ve learned from those mistakes. You’re good Siva. When I look at you I see someone that’s good and kind and loving. I see the man that I love,” I said. Sloane to Siva”

“The abbot ought ever to bear in mind what he is and what he is called; he ought to know that to whom more is entrusted, from him more is exacted.”