I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything.

And Yale is November, crisp and energetic.

Suddenly she realized that what she was regretting was not the lost past but the lost future, not what had not been but what would never be.

Intelligence is measured by a person's ability to see validity within both sides of contradicting arguments.

The greatest profound pain is cased by, and is the result of our own illusions, fantasies and dreams.

You're a slave, a bound helpless slave to one thing in the world, your imagination.

A writer wastes nothing.