You must find the right voice (or voices) for the timbre that can convince a reader to give himself up to you.

Every time we hit an air pocket and the plane dropped about five hundred feet (leaving my stomach in my mouth) I vowed to give up sex, bacon, and air travel if I ever made it back to terra firma in one piece.

A Soul is partly given, partly wrought; remember always that you are the Maker of your own Soul.

I have lived my life according to this principle: If I'm afraid of it, then I must do it.

Women are individuals in parenting, and why not?

Isn't that the problem? That women have been swindled for centuries into substituting adornment for love, fashion (as it were) for passion?

what was time but a convention, a habit of mind, a custom of dress?