Shrews are made, not born.

the emotions at death, as at birth, are instinctive and primitive.

I wish people would quit telling me to think. I think. Thinking's easy. It's not thinking that's hard.

Shrews are made, not born.

The smell of moist earth and lilacs hung in the air like wisps of the past and hints of the future.

That's what a conscience is made of, scar tissue ... Little strips and pieces of remorse sewn together year by year until they formed a distinctive pattern, a design for living.

There is no such thing as an ex-exhibitionist.