“Don’t trust people who tell you that they love you. All the time. As though the statement itself is some kind of confirmation — a little gold star. And then at the end of the week they tally up their starcharts and it’s a kind of game. You used to do this when you were a kid. Remember? Say just one word over and over as fast as you can. Soon you’ll find that the word undresses like you are pulling a loose string on a sweater. It starts to lose all of its meaning because you are just making noise. Sound itself has been pulled through a meat grinder and it has become a ramble. That’s the same with these plastic gestures of great love. The boy who stammered awkwardly and didn’t know what words to say — yes, that’s who you should have listened to. The boy who sounds good on paper but doesn’t say half a word in reality. That girl who stares at her shoes or looks up at the sky isn’t crazy. They are quiet because speaking is difficult. All the words, every breath is surrendered to looking at you. Because love itself is wordless. Love is a verb.”
"We read to extend our sympathies, to see ourselves in others and others in ourselves, to educate our imaginations, to find liberation from the prison of the self, to be made whole where we are broken, to be reconciled to the absurdity of existence, in short to be redeemed from flesh, the ego and despair."