But there are no absolutes in human misery and things can always get worse
The societies to which I have been exposed seemed to me largely machines for the suppression of women.
She was gone and the coldness of it was her final gift.
The martyr who longs for the flames can be no right candidate for them.
What could a child know of the darkness of God's plan? Or how flesh is so frail it is hardly more than a dream
She smiled. I think it's just the snow. I think it makes people stop and think. Bell nodded. I hope it comes a blizzard then.