Nobody loved her and she wouldn’t have liked it if they had, she considered love a serious disability.

My theory is that the world is a difficult place to live in and distraction is the name of the game.

Everywhere, everywhere, children are the scorned people of the earth.

If he looked into her face, he would see those haunted, loving eyes. The hauntedness would irritate him - the love would move him to fury. How dare she love him? Hadn't she any sense at all? What was he supposed to do about that? Return it? How? What could his calloused hands produce to make her smile? What of his knowledge of the world and of life could be useful to her? What could his heavy arms and befuddled brain accomplish that would earn him his own respect, that would in turn allow him to accept her love?

Say make me, remake me. You are free to do it and I am free to let you because look, look. Look where your hands are. Now.

At some point in life, the world's beauty becomes enough.

For a long time I was convinced that the conflict between Jewish people and black people in this country was a media event.