Oh, the lies that I have told myself and others. I knew it yet I didn't know.

I left Christianity because I wanted to be a moral person. That is why I left. I no longer believed in its lies.

You have made me ashamed of the wasted years. You have made me acknowledge that no darkness has ever been deep enough to extinguish my personal knowledge of love. And all around me in this world I see evidence of love. I see love. I see it in the human struggle. I see its undeniable penetration in all that humans have accomplished in their poetry, their painting, their music, their love of one another and refusal to accept suffering as their lot.

Dickens is a very underrated writer at the moment. Everyone in his time admired him but I think right now he's not spoken of enough.

Amazing what the British do with language; the nuances of politeness. The world's great diplomats, surely.

I don't like myself you know. I love myself. I'm devoted to myself till my dying day. But I don't like myself.

Then, are you master of us all? You didn't teach her that. Was she supposed to imbibe it from my quiet subservience?