All my life I had feared imprisonment, the nun's cell, the hospital bed, the places where one faced the self without distraction, without the crutches of other people.
Kindness. The most unkind thing of all.
Wherever there were horses or ponies the mushrooms always sprang up.
I was lonelier than I should be, for a woman in love, or half in love.
If the Holy Communion touched my teeth, I thought that was a mortal sin
Books everywhere. On the shelves and on the small space above the rows of books and all along the floor and under chairs, books that I have read, books that I have not read.