There’s little enough joy, and far too much pain, in a world like this not to appreciate the beauty that comes your way. He.

I have to believe he will do as he promised. Yet the truth is that I trust him because of the way he snared my fingers in his. That is the worst reason of all to trust, but my bitter heart will not stop singing its recklessly giddy song.

Naturalists claim that however much the female may be said to love the accoutrements of fashion and furnishings, it is the male who is driven to display himself.

I believe that there is truth to be found inside every person, but that very few people find it because it is dark inside, and deeply hidden, and the trees grow thickly.

War was so simple, wasn’t it? Much simpler than justice.

He had such a kind voice, that of a man who sees his own faults and forgives himself for them – not arrogantly or leniently but with wisdom – knowing he, as are all humans, is hopelessly flawed.

A man gets used to riding on at the break of day. Comes to think that movement and noise is where life is, when after all there’s life in stillness and quiet too.

The young who are male can never resist showing off their knowledge, no doubt because they possess so little.

No one can fall in love at first sight. Love is built over years, not snapped into existence like a flame that can be as easily extinguished.

It’s the ones who can’t let go – of fear or anger, lust or greed, vanity or pride or power – who are most at risk of becoming corrupted.