Carol Shields, The Stone Diaries

Is this what love is, he wonders, this substance that lies so pressingly between them, so neutral in color yet so palpable it need never be mentioned? Or is love something less, something slippery and odorless, a transparent gas riding through the world on the back of a breeze, or else -- and this is what he more and more believes -- just a word trying to remember another word.

Carol Shields, The Stone Diaries

He felt that he carried in his head some ancient subtle strand of memory, a luminous image of proof and possibility, the coast and continent of achieved happiness.

Eric Hoffer

You can discover what your enemy fears most by observing the means he uses to frighten you.