You cannot let your parents anywhere near your real humiliations.

Row, row, row your boat. Gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.

Love removes the world for you, and just as surely when it's going well as when it's going badly.

I would have a flick of fear, as in a dream when you find yourself in the wrong building or have forgotten the time for the exam and understand that this is only the tip of some shadowy cataclysm or lifelong mistake.

I would really hope this would make people see the short story as an important art, not just something you played around with until you got a novel.

Lovers. Not a soft word, as people thought, but cruel and tearing.

Now i no longer believe that people's secrets are defined and communicable, or their feelings full-blown and easy to recognize.