Borrow my umbrellas, my clothes, my money, and I will likely not think of them again. But borrow my books and I will be on your track like a bloodhound until they are returned.

A mother's hardest to forgive. Life is the fruit she longs to hand you Ripe on a plate. And while you live, Relentlessly she understands you.

Borrow my umbrellas, my clothes, my money, and I will likely not think of them again. But borrow my books and I will be on your track like a bloodhound until they are returned.

These are my daughters, I suppose. But where in the world did the children vanish?

Children are forced to live very rapidly in order to live at all. They are given only a few years in which to learn hundreds of thousands of things about life and the planet and themselves.

Praise is warming and desirable. But it is an earned thing. It has to be deserved, like a hug from a child.

Sometimes I have a notion that what might improve the situation is to have women take over the occupations of government and trade and to give men their freedom.