I crossed the room, and what you did was to feel my hair over and over again and in different ways, touch it, with the palm of your hand... felt it, strands of hair, with your fingers, touched it as if it were cloth, the way a child touches its favorite surfaces.

Sometimes one word can recall a whole span of life.

After that dark woman you search for someone who will fit into the irregular corners of your heart.

Oh, love, what an unreasoning creature it grew to be.

It's not the vote women need, we should be armed.

There was always a real reason for everything - why spoons tarnished, and jam furred, and people declined into God, or drink, or card games.

There was I, devouring books and yet allowing a man who had never read a book to walk me home for a bit of harmless fumbling on the front steps.