After all the world is indeed beautiful and if we were any other creature than man we might be continuously happy in it.

I thought if I was going to live a life in this land I was accidentally born on, I must people it; I must have a history. . .. I'm looking for these people inside me, wherever they may be; that is my form of research.

For I did not want him to see, or to question me, for here contains already secrets, and my secrets are my fortune and my sanity.

The world is not full of betrayers, it is full of people with decent motives and a full desire to do right by those who know them and love them. This is a little-known truth, but I think it is a truth nonetheless. Empirically, from all the years of my work, I would attest to that. I know it is a miraculous conclusion, but there it is. We like to make strangers of everyone. We are not wolves, but lambs astonished in the margins of the fields by sunlight and summer.

Tears have a better character cried alone. Pity can sometimes be more wolf than dog.

What is the sound of an eighty-nine-year-old heart breaking?

After all the world is indeed beautiful and if we were any other creature than man we might be continuously happy in it.