love

“Loving someone is like moving into a house,” Sonja used to say. “At first you fall in love with all the new things, amazed every morning that all this belongs to you, as if fearing that someone would suddenly come rushing in through the door to explain that a terrible mistake had been made, you weren’t actually supposed to live in a wonderful plac

He knew better than to speak ill of what she loved; after all he understood very keenly how it was to receive her love when no one else could understand why he was worthy of it.

-Fredrik Backman, A Man Called Ove

“You like reading?” she asked him brightly.

I’ve shook his head with some insecurity, but it didn’t seem to concern her very much. She just smiled, said that she loves books more than anything, and started telling him excitedly what each of the ones in her lap was about. And Ove realized that he wanted to hear her talking about the things she loved

He was a man of black and white.

And she was color. All the color he had.

-Fredrik Backman, A Man Called Ove