What I appreciated most about Alva these days, though, was her gentleness. It was as if the word had been invented for her. She was gentle in the way she repotted plants, formulated a thought, or tenderly stroked the nape of her husband’s neck; the way she wrote a letter, or laid the table, always placing cutlery, plates and glasses with precision. As if she didn’t want to leave anything else to chance.
~ Benedict Wells, The End of Loneliness: A Novel (Charlotte Collins, Translator) (Penguin Books, January 29, 2019)