Of course she had some pathetic illusions about herself or she would not be able to go on living.

Some must cry so that others may be able to laugh the more heartily. Sacrifices are necessary.

For the first time she had dimly realized that only the hopeless are starkly sincere and that only the unhappy can either give or take sympathy--even some of the bitter and dangerous voluptuousness of misery.

Soon he'll come in again and kiss me, but differently. He'll be different and so I'll be different. It'll be different. I thought, 'It'll be different, different. It must be different.

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

If I was bound for hell, let it be hell. No more false heaven. No more damned magic.

After all this, what happened? What happened was that, as soon as I had the slightest chance of a place to hide in, I crept into it and hid. Well, sometimes it's a fine day isn't it? Sometimes the skies are blue. Sometimes the air is light, easy to breathe. And there is always tomorrow.