...the reasons just reassemble themselves in different patterns every time I think about it.
When the times are a crucible, when the air is full of crisis, those who are the most themselves are the victims.
Such silly things, children -- and so embarrassing -- because they keep changing themselves out of shame, out of a need to be loved or something. While animals are born who they are, accept it, and that is that. They live with greater peace than people do.
The truth isn't a thing of fact or reason. It is simply what everyone agrees on.
It's unbecoming," she agreed. "A perfect word for my new life. Unbecoming. I who have always been unbecoming am becoming un.
Perhaps family itself, like beauty, is temporary, and no discredit need attach to impermanence.
How deeply bound by cords of family anger we all are[...]None of us breaks free.
The overdressed traveler betrays more interest in being seen than in seeing, while the true traveler knows that the novel world about her serves as the most appropriate accessory.
Everyone dies. It's a question of where and how, that's all.
If one could drown in the grass, thought Elphie, that might be the best way to die.
I don't like work like that. I am the silent partner. I work through events, I live on the sidelines, I dabble in causes and effects, I watch how the misbegotten creatures of this world live their lives.
We only have babies when we're young enough not to know how grim life turns out. Once we really get the full measure of it--we're slow learners, we women--we dry up in disgust and sensibly halt production.
The more civilized we become, the more horrendous our entertainments.
The thing about a mirror is this: The one who stares into it is condemned to consider the world from her own perspective.
...perhaps charity is the kind of beauty that we comprehend the best because we miss it the most.
Those times are over and gone, and good riddance to them, too. We were hopelessly high-spirited. Now we're the tick-waisted generation, dragging along our children behind us and carrying our parents on our backs. And we're in charge, while the figures who used to command our respect are wasting away.
Are you an aberration to your species?' she cried. 'Cats don't look for approval!
I may not know how to fly but I know how to read, and that's almost the same thing.
What had survived - maybe all that had survived of Trism - was Liir's sense of him. A catalog of impressions that arose from time to time, unbidden and often upsetting. From the sandy smell of his sandy hair to the locked grip of his muscles as they had wrestled in sensuous aggression - unwelcome nostalgia. Trism lived in Liir's heart like a full suit of clothes in a wardrobe, dress habillards maybe, hollow and real at once. The involuntary memory of the best of Trism's glinting virtues sometimes kicked up unquietable spasms of longing.
The real thing about evil," said the Witch at the doorway, "isn't any of what you said. You figure out one side of it - the human side, say - and the eternal side goes into shadow. Or vice versa. It's like the old saw: What does a dragon in its shell look like? Well no one can ever tell, for as soon as you break the shell to see, the dragon is no longer in its shell. The real disaster of this inquiry is that it is the nature of evil to be secret.
This is why you shouldn't fall in love, it blinds you. Love is wicked distraction.
The world was floods above and fire below
To consider what other people might say is hardly a good reason to take action or to defer it. You have your own life to live, Iris, and at its end, the only opinion that amounts to anything is that which God bestows
That's what misbehavior is all about, just a little extra loving being asked for.
...and he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her, little by little by little.
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