He's a sweet man whose crime was that he didn't love me quite enough, and because this wasn't much of a crime I had to make up some bigger ones.
You had to live in your own bubble. You couldn't force your way into someone else's, because then it wouldn't be a bubble any more.
This book is about work, and nobody ever worked harder than these two, or at a higher standard, while connecting with so many people for so long.
Hard is trying to rebuild yourself, piece by piece, with no instruction book, and no clue as to where all the important bits are supposed to go.
There had been times when he knew, somewhere in him, that he would get used to it, whatever it was, because he had learnt that some hard things became softer after a very little while.
