I'd rather stay asleep than have to learn all those frightening secrets.
No use crying over spilled milk.
It would drive me crazy to be a guest in my own house.
Love sometimes makes people ruthless in a way that not even hatred can.
Why is it you can never hope to describe the emotion Africa creates? You are lifted. Out of whatever pit, unbound from whatever tie, released from whatever fear. You are lifted and you see it all from above.
What kind of heart does one have to have in order to be able to get rid of these, without regret, as if they were empty beer cans?