I don't think she realized how much she cared for him, or he for her, until the end. Hasn't someone said a woman may be known by the men who love her enough to die for her? (If they haven't, I claim the credit myself.)

Loving someone condemns you to a lifetime of fear. You become painfully conscious of how fragile people are - bundles of brittle bones and vulnerable flesh, breeding grounds for billions of deadly germs and horrible diseases.

I do, however, think it would be difficult to write books I don't like to read.

Ramses had always been fond of Helen, in his peculiar fashion, but if he had looked at me as he was looking at her, I would have sent for a constable.

Who are we really? Combinations of common chemicals that perform mechanical actions for a few years before crumbling back into the original components? Fresh new souls, drawn at random for some celestial cupboard where God keeps an unending supply?Or the same soul, immortal and eternal, refurbished and reused through endless lives, by that thrifty Housekeeper? In Her wisdom and benevolence She wipes off the memory slates, as part of the cleaning process, because if we could remember all the things we have experienced in earlier lives, we might object to risking it again.

If you take a man by surprise, and behave with sufficient arrogance, he will generally do what you ask. -Emerson

Martyrdom is often the result of excessive gullibility.