The perpetual stream of human nature is formed into ever-changing shallows, eddies, falls and pools by the land over which it passes. Perhaps the only real value of history lies in considering this endlessly varied play between the essence and the accidents.
Mary RenaultIn hatred as in love, we grow like the thing we brood upon. What we loathe, we graft into our very soul.
Mary RenaultA man is at his youngest when he thinks he is a man, not yet realizing that his actions must show it.
Mary Renault