I've never seen any life transformation that didn't begin with the person in question finally getting tired of their own bullshit.

And when you sense a faint potentiality for happiness after such dark times you must grab onto the ankles of that happiness and not let go until it drags you face-first out of the dirt - this is not selfishness, but obligation. You were given life; it is your duty to find something beautiful within life no matter how slight.

The thing I love about Dickens is the omniscient, omnipotent narrator, and the great confidence of the narrator, which marks 19th-century novelists in general and Dickens in particular.

What a large number of factors constitute a single human being! How very many layers we operate on, and how very many influences we receive from our minds, our bodies, our histories, our families, our cities, our souls and our lunches!

What time has ever been a simple time for those who are living it?

I am a better person when I have less on my plate.

Admittedly, I am not the one who looks fantastic in everything, but still I cannot help loving myself.