Yes, I'm shallow, I don't mind admitting it. Perhaps I should admit that there's no end to the depths of my shallowness.

Thoughts are strange creatures. They lead you from one thing to another. Sometimes you don’t know how you got from one to the next.

I don't know what it is, but I ache for it each day. It's as though I have eyes, but there are colors I cannot see. As though I have ears, but there's a range of notes I cannot hear.

It's the picnic principle. Things taste better outdoors. And if it's a forbidden thing, so much the better.

If you don't argue, you can't give in.

Blast Cecil!” said Eldric. “You have my permission,” I said.

People think me a sort of Florence Nightingale, but I have no heroic qualities. I simply don’t feel very much.