My grandfather was a rabbi and he was a widower who lived alone in a small apartment in Brooklyn that was my favorite place in the world when I was growing up, partly because it was filled with his very gentle, very courtly presence and partly because it was filled with books.
Nagyapám rabbi volt, özvegy, egyedül élt egy kis lakásban Brooklyn-ban, ami a világon a legkedvencebb helyem volt gyerekkoromban, részben amiatt, mert érezhető volt nagyon finom, meleg jelenléte, részben pedig azért, mert tele volt könyvekkel.