My whole work drive has been aimed at making people understand each other. . .

Just like heaven. Ever’body wants a little piece of lan’. I read plenty of books out here. Nobody never gets to heaven, and nobody gets no land. It’s just in their head. They’re all the time talkin’ about it, but it’s jus’ in their head.

Intentions, good or bad, are not enough. There's luck or fate or something else that takes over.

If there is a magic in story writing, and I am convinced there is, no one has ever been able to reduce it to a recipe that can be passed from one person to another.

So many old and lovely things are stored in the world's attic because we don't want them around us and we don't dare throw them out.

For the world was changing, and sweetness was gone, and virtue too. Worry had crept on a corroding world, and what was lost- good manners, ease and beauty? Ladies were not ladies anymore, and you couldn't trust a gentleman's word.

He can kill anything for need but he could not even hurt a feeling for pleasure.