“Now that the bad weather had come, we could leave Paris for a while for a place where this rain would be snow coming down through the pines and covering the road and the high hillsides and at an altitude where we would hear it creak as we walked home at night. Below Les Avants there was a chalet where the pension was wonderful and where we would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright. That was where we could go.”

“Where we would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright. That was where we could go.”

“we would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright.”

“We chased her across the Pont-Neuf and through the Bois de Boulogne, kicking up leaves, and one day we knew that no matter where we might find ourselves in the world, Paris would be an ache in our hearts. Yes, we were young students in Paris. We had gone there because we knew it was the city of love and learning and light. Where it would lead was not as important as where we were at the moment. Looking at the city, we thought we saw our whole lives. Perhaps we did.”

“Where would we have been without the discoveries of our predecessors, and where are we going without your discoveries?”

“From where we stand the rain seems random. If we could stand somewhere else, we would see the order in it.”