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From High Fidelity by Nick Hornby:

It seems to me that if you place music (and books, probably, and films, and plays, and anything else that makes you feel) at the center of your being, then you can't afford to sort out your love life, start to think of it as the finished product. You've got to pick at it, keep it alive and in turmoil, you've got to pick at it and unravel it until it all comes apart and you're compelled to start all over again. Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as a consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to acheive within a stable, solid relationship. Maybe Al Green is directly responsible for more than I ever realized. —page 169

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..."The trouble with young people today is..." No. Just kidding. But they're evangelical about what they have, as if I've come up from north London to arrest them for being monogamous. I haven't, but they're right in thinking that it's a crime where I come from: it's against the law because we're all cynics and romantics, sometimes simultaneously, and marriage, with its steady low-watt glow, is as unwelcome to us as garlic is to a vampire." —page 179

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