I listen to people talking sometimes, that great river that is language, with all its undercurrents of grammar and nuance, and I wonder how we all learn so quickly to speak it, given that we...

It was so cold. In the monastery. Sometimes the wind came from the sea with ice in it… It could freeze the skin off your face. Once the snow was so deep we couldn’t get...

If grace belongs to God, there are those who say that luck belongs to the Devil and that he looks after his own.

Ah, he has too many ideas, that man da Vinci. His mind works faster than his hands.