They saw that even the crooked girl believed her own life was precious. That is what it means to be a beast in the kingdom
There’s nothing like living as a refugee in one’s own country to turn a generous soul into a hard little fist.
There's people I love. But there's so many other kinds of love, too. And people act so hateful to every kind but their own.
There is no point in treating a depressed person as though she were just feeling sad...Sadness is more or less like a head cold -- with patience, it passes. Depression is like cancer.
There are some who'd hardly lift a finger for kindness, but they would haul up a load of rock to dump on some soul they think's been too lucky.
The main barrier standing between ourselves and a local-food culture is not price, but attitude. The most difficult requirements are patience and a bit of restraint -- virtues that are hardly the prop...
The clock gulps softly, eating second whole while she waits...
Take one trip overland here and you'll know forever that a road in the jungle is a sweet, flat, impossible dream.
Silence has many advantages. When you do not speak, other people presume you to be deaf or feeble-minded and promptly make a show of their own limitations.
No reporter worth his buttons will let the facts intrude on a good story.
No matter what affronts of youthful insolence he had to face in his day, he'd still have that: he was a man taken care of by a woman.
Nearly every day I wake up shocked at how little in this world I comprehend.
My prior experience with young men was to hear them swear 'Christ almighty in the craphouse!' at any dress with too many buttons.
Mama always said barefoot and pregnant was not my style. She knew.
Listen: being dead is not worse than being alive. It is different though. You could say the view is larger.
It's frightening when things you love appear suddenly changed from what you have always known.
It was a true conversation. About whether our ancestors had more important lives than we do. And how they've managed to trick us, if they did not.
It is widely rumored, and also true, that I wrote my first novel in a closet.
Isn't it awfully sad to thing that's all history amounts to, just following the next stupid fashion?
In our state—no kidding—they are called Standards of Learning, or SOLs. (I don’t think anyone intended the joke.)