What was it with men, that they found elementary logic so difficult?

Could it ever be explained, how matter becomes conscious?

She wanted to leave, she wanted to lie alone face down on her bed and savor the vile piquancy of the moment, and go back down the lines of branching consequences to the point before the destruction began. She needed to contemplate with eyes closed the full richness of what she had lost, what she had given away, and to anticipate the new regime.

I like to think that each book I start is a completely new departure But I’ve learned that whatever you do, readers will have no difficulty assimilating it into what you’ve done before.

Above all, she wanted to look as though she had not given the matter a moment's thought, and that would take time.

...beauty, she had discovered occupied a narrow band. Ugliness, on the hand, had infinite variation.

She lay in the dark and knew everything.