guilt to motherhood is like grapes to wine

Fiction stretches our sensibilities and our understanding, as mere information never can.

The desire for self-expression afflicts people when they feel there is something of themselves which is not getting through to the outside world.

There is probably an innate masochism in a lot of women that ends up disappointed if men don't ill-treat them.

Because clearly the most amazing thing had happened: by some chance - no, the lover does not believe in chance, but destiny - destiny had arranged it so that the man and woman who had made the original whole, then somehow divided and separated by an angry God, had met up again, and now must reform the rightful, righteous whole. At once!

Pride is what you can afford or think you can afford.

We shelter children for a time; we live side by side with men; and that is all. We owe them nothing, and are owed nothing. I think we owe our friends more, especially our female friends.