Indeed, she often wondered if she were dead, or dying from the inside out, and that was the root of her calm, the reason she could surrender her character.

Small steps to the madhouse still get us there at last

Immortality is a chancy thing; it cannot be promised or earned. Perhaps it cannot even be identified for what it is.

My first job was scooping ice cream at Friendly's in Albany, New York. I hated the work, most of my colleagues, and the uniform, and I more or less lost my taste for ice cream permanently.

She dreamed of leaving, but she had too little exposure to the world to imagine where to go.

Yes, I'm nervous. You'll find in time most people are. They simply learn better how to disguise it, and sometimes, if they're wise, how to use their anxiety to serve the public good.

There were more ways to live than the ones given by one's superiors