He had stylized himself--life was easier that way. He had chosen a physical mould just as writer chooses a technical form.

Who knows whether there may not be a moment in childhood when the world changes forever, like making a face when the clock strikes?

Innocence always calls mutely for protection when we would be so much wiser to guard ourselves against it: innocence is like a dumb leper who has lost his bell, wandering the world, meaning no harm.

Grief and disappointment are like hate: they make men ugly with self-pity and bitterness. And how selfish they make us too.

They think my mother's ashes are marijuana.

It is the storytellers task to elicit sympathy and a measure of understanding for those who lie outside the boundaries of State approval.

I know one thing you don't. I know the difference between Right and Wrong. They didn't teach you that at school.' Rose didn't answer; the woman was quite right: the two words meant nothing to her. Their taste was extinguished by stronger foods--Good and Evil.