Somewhere, within her, in a deep recess, crouched discontent. She began to lose confidence in the fullness of her life, the glow began to fade from her conception of it. As the days multiplied, her need of something, something vaguely familiar, but which she could not put a name to and hold for definite examination, became almost intolerable. She went through moments of overwhelming anguish. She felt shut in, trapped.

that's what everybody wants, just a little more money, even the people who have it.

If sex isn't a joke, what is it?

What are friends for, if not to help bear our sins?

Authors do not supply imaginations.

Children aren't everything. There are other things in the world, though I admit some people don't seem to suspect it.

Have you ever stopped to think how much unhappiness and downright cruelty are laid to the loving kindness of the Lord? And always by His most ardent followers, it seems.