It’s the place of the story, beginning here, in the meadow of late summer flowers, thriving before the Atlantic storms drive wet and winter upon them all.

Animals are born who they are, accept it, and that is that. They live with greater peace than people do.

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

The world rarely shrieks its meaning at you. It whispers, in private languages and obscure modalities, in arcane and quixotic imagery, through symbol systems in which every element has multiple meanings determined by juxtaposition.

The devil is a very big angel, but a very little man.

Forgive us our trespasses," says Margarethe, "and get out of our way.

Waking up was a daily cruelty, an affront, and she avoided it by not sleeping.