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.

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

I would never have supposed that inexperienced girl was capable of such cold-blooded, calculating manipulation!

It is much more sensible to be an optimist instead of a pessimist, for if one is doomed to disappointment, why experience it in advance?

Another dead body. Every year it is the same. Every year, another dead body.

When men start talking about 'honor', there is sure to be trouble ahead.

Money was the manure of politics.