It is no good to think that other people are out to serve our interests.
We are always children to our mothers.
Appearances are not held to be a clue to the truth,' said his cousin. 'But we seem to have no other.
Civilized life exacts its toll.
At a certain point my novels set. They set just as hard as that jam jar. And then I know they are finished.
I never know why self-sacrifice is noble. Why is it better to sacrifice oneself than someone else?