Nobody ever warned me about mirrors, so for many years I was fond of them, and believed them to be trustworthy. . .

Nobody ever warned me about mirrors, so for many years I was fond of them, and believed them to be trustworthy. . .

This was a little house, with a ceiling that kept getting higher and higher, a hot place with no windows. This was anger.

If you should find yourself in a place that is indifferent to you and there is someone there that your spirit stretches to, then that person is kin.

Imagine having a mother who worries that you read too much. The question is, what is it that's supposed to happen to people who read too much? How can you tell when someone's crossed the line.

The language of [Catholic] mysticism - its repeated attempts to lay consciousness itself bare and speak all the intensely opposing yet interconnected parts of it that cannot be spoken.

I feel like an old lady; my hero is Miss Marple.