Top Highlights

• But I still didn’t reply or go over to the bed to calm her and smooth her sheets, because at that
• And then finally (although very little time had passed and Luisa must have felt that she’d still only just woken up), I left my place at the window, switched on the bedside lamp and went solicitously over to our bed, a somewhat delayed solicitude.
• STILL FIND that delay inexplicable and even then I sincerely regretted it, not because it might have any consequences, but because of what, in an excess of scruple and zeal, I thought it might mean.
• in our morbid attempt to prevent time from ending, to cause what is over to return, we will be letting that other time slip past us as if it were not ours.
• We pour all our intelligence and our feelings and our enthusiasm into the task of discriminating between things that will all be made equal, if they haven’t already been, and that’s why we’re so full of regrets and lost opportunities, of confirmations and reaffirmations and opportunities grasped, when the truth is that nothing is affirmed and every...