Reassurance is such a sad, mad thing. Deep inside, everyone knows the truth.
Watch your step. Keep your wits about you; you will need them.
I am a fallen woman, but I assure you: I did not fall. I was pushed.
History indulges strange whims in the way it dresses its women.
A single day spent doing things which fail to nourish the soul is a day stolen, mutilated, and discarded in the gutter of destiny.
Nowadays, her life is more like a newspaper: aimless, up-to-date and full of meaningless events