The sight of one's own heart is degrading; people are not meant to look inward - that's why they've been given bodies, to hide their souls.

I'm going to put death in all their food and watch them die.

He is altogether selfish, she thought in some surprise, the only man I have ever sat and talked to alone, and I am impatient; he is simply not very interesting.

February, when the days of winter seem endless and no amount of wistful recollecting can bring back any air of summer.

I assume then, that you have no real faith in the fondness any of the rest of us may feel for you?''None,' said Mrs. Halloran.

I very much dislike writing about myself or my work, and when pressed for autobiographical material can only give a bare chronological outline which contains no pertinent facts.

We eat the year away. We eat the spring and the summer and the fall. We wait for something to grow and then we eat it.