I No Longer Represent Any Organized Religion.

The Library Furnished Our Dreams, Helped Us Shape Our Ambitions, Made Up People Of Books And Ideas And Grand Designs.

In These Last Few Days, We Were Close Because We Were Both Mortal Men. We Saw The Same Sun And The Same Twilight, We Felt The Same Pull Of The Earth Beneath Our Feet. We Drank Together And Broke Bread Together. We Might Have Made Love Together, If You Had Only Allowed Such A Thing. But That’s All Changed. You Have Your Youth, Yes, And All The Dizzying Wonder That Accompanies The Miracle. But I Still See Death When I Look At You. I Know Now I Cannot Be Your Companion, And You Cannot Be Mine

I Like To Read Things I've Read Before. It's Like Listening Over And Over To Your Favorite Song.

I Was At A Loss Suddenly; But Conscious All The While Of How Armand Listened; That He Listened In The Way That We Dream Of Others Listening, His Face Seeming To Reflect On Every Thing Said. He Did Not Start Forward To Seize On My Slightest Pause, To Assert An Understanding Of Something Before The Thought Was Finished, Or To Argue With A Swift, Irresistible Impulse -- The Things Which Often Make Dialogue Impossible. And After A Long Interval He Said, 'i Want You. I Want You More Than Anything In The World.

The One Thing You Share With Every Mortal Is Death.