In the vaults of our hearts and brains, danger waits. All the chambers are not lovely, light and high. There are holes in the floor of the mind, like those in a medieval dungeon floor - the stinking oubliettes, named for forgetting, bottle-shaped cells in solid rock with the trapdoor in the top. Nothing escapes from them quietly to ease us. A quake, some betrayal by our safeguards, and sparks of memory fire the noxious gases - things trapped for years fly free, ready to explode in pain and drive us to dangerous behavior.

I would not have had that happen to you. Discourtesy is unspeakably ugly to me.

I have no interest in understanding sheep, only eating them.

It's hard... to shake off something that's already under your skin.

Being smart spoils a lot of things, doesn't it?

We routinely leave our small children in day care among strangers. At the same time, in our guilt we evince paranoia about strangers and foster fear in children.

Back at his chair he cannot remember what he was reading. He feels the books beside him to find the one that is warm.