I must fight with my weapons. Not his. Not selfishness and brutality and shame and resentment.

You put up with your voice and speak with it because you haven't any choice. But it's what you say that counts.

They looked down on her; and she looked up through them.

People who teach you cram old ideas, old views, old ways, into you. Like covering plants with layer after layer of old earth; it's no wonder the poor things so rarely come up fresh and green.

I don't think the English like me. I sold a colossal best seller in America, and they never really forgave me.

Art is a statement of one in the face of all; not a statement by one for the use of all.

How can one build a better self unless on the ruins of the old?