Habit is not mere subjugation, it is a tender tie; when one remembers habit it seems to have been happiness.

Fate is not an eagle, it creeps like a rat.

without fiction, either life would be insufficient or the winds from the north would blow too cold.

The novel does not simply recount experience, it adds to experience.

There is no end to the violations committed by children on children, quietly talking alone.

I suspect victims; they win in the long run.

Silences have a climax, when you have got to speak.