“She put a wedge beside my heartAnd then she brought the mallet downShe sang no song to guide her workI lost my heart without a sound”

“Astrud Gilberto sang an old bossa nova song. “Take me to Aruanda,” she sang. I closed my eyes, and the clatter of the cups and saucers sounded like the roar of a far-off sea. Aruanda—what’s it like there?”

“She didn't just barge into my life. She barged and shoved and wedged her way into my life.”

“The clouds wept when my heart sang a song of sorrow”

“If she says goodbye perhaps adieu. Adieu - like those old time songs she sang. Always adieu (and all songs say it). If she too says it, or weeps, I'll take her in my arms, my lunatic. She's mad but mine, mine. What will I care for gods or devils or for Fate itself. If she smiles or weeps or both. For me.”

“And what was the song which she sang? Ah, my little man, I am too old to sing that song, and you too young to understand it.”