If we seek to keep the past alive, we end, I think, by distorting it.
Where do one's fears come from? Where do they shape themselves? Where do they hide before coming out into the open?
I just woke up feeling happy this morning. You know those days when everything in the world seems right.
One of us in this very room is in fact the murderer.
They tried to be too clever---and that was their undoing.
I always take abroad with me one really good soft pillow--to me it makes all the difference between comfort and misery.