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.

Lies, injustice, and hypocrisy are a part of every ordinary community. Most people achieve a sort of protective immunity, a kind of callousness, toward them. If they didn't, they couldn't endure.

I feel like the oldest person in the world with the longest stretch of life before me.

New York's the lonesomest place in the world if you don't know anybody.

I think being a mother is the cruelest thing in the world.

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

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