Words. Borne on the ever swelling current of hatred, like flowers opening in the current, petals peeling back, then falling apart.
Cities have distinct personalities. It's a matter of knowing it.
Nothing in all the world is so nonsensical and contradictory, save mortals, that is, who live in the grip of the superstitions of the past.
Why does shame and self-loathing become cruelty to the innocent ?
The human heart is my school.
The thing should have plot and character, beginning, middle and end. Arouse pity and then have a catharsis. Those were the best principles I was ever taught.