Katherine

“He talked on lovingly, about his books, as I had never heard anyone talk before. The instant sense of companionship it gave me was like the warmth of a fire to someone grown accustomed to the lack of it, who is hardly conscious of the cold until it is over; I realized then how much I had been longing for a friend of this kind.

Here at last, walking by my side, was someone else who cared for books, and realized the excellence of being alive. It was wonderful. He was the first real comrade I had found.”
― E. Arnot Robertson, Cullum

“Is it always the same story, then? Somebody loves and somebody doesn't, or loves less, or loves someone else. Or someone is a good soul and someone a villain. And there are just these episodes, anecdotes, places, pauses, hailings of cabs, overcomings of obstacles, or instances of being overcome by them, illnesses, accidents, recoveries, wars, desires, welcomings, rebuffs, baskings (rare, not so long), pinings (more frequent, perhaps, and longer), actions, failures to act, hesitations, proliferations, endings of the line, until there is death. Well, no. I have a wonderful, fond memory, about love and trust and books.”
― Renata Adler, Pitch Dark

“It is something—it can be everything-to have found a fellow bird with whom you can sit among the rafters while the drinking and boasting and reciting and fighting go on below; a fellow bird whom you can look after and find bugs and seeds for; one who will patch your bruises and straighten your ruffled feathers and mourn over your hurts when you accidentally fly into something you can’t handle.”
― Wallace Stegner, The Spectator Bird

“And this is all that has happened. It does not seem very much. I was happy when I was a child, and I married the wrong person, and someone I loved dearly was killed in the war...and that is all. And all those things must be true of thousands of people.”
― Rosalind Murray, The Happy Tree