The musty smell, the bugs, the lonliness, this room, which is part of the street outside-this is all I want from life.

A room is, after all, a place where you hide from the wolves. That's all any room is.

There is always the other side, always.

When I think about it, if I had to choose, I'd rather be happy than write.

Now at last I know why I was brought here and what I have to do.

Sometimes the Earth trembles; sometimes you can feel it breathe.

I took the red dress down and put it against myself. 'Does it make me look intemperate and unchaste?' I said.