" He lay next to her, the warmth of her body, the smell of her, the sense of inseparability he always felt at such moments, and he recalled her words and wondered if she was right. It isn’t complicated. Always thinking, always wrestling with things, finding himself agitated and dissatisfied whatever he was doing. This was his flaw. Wherever he was, he always believed that what he was looking for was someplace else. Only at times such as this, jus the two of them, did he feel some sense of stability. She was his anchor. That’s why they worked. "

― R.J. Ellory , Bad Signs