I have never cared much for fish – it floats in the belly as much as in the pond.
I have seen a peaceful expression turn to anger as fast as a whip cracks, and so the look on the face might mean less than what it seems to be.
I have found that it don’t really matter if you’re brought up fine or rough, but that it helps to have someone to spill your sorrows to.
Losing a baby is not a thing that you could ever get used to.
I take care of my things. After all, those of us as has few things to begin with must take care, lest we have fewer.
I felt despair. Though it seems to me now there’s two kinds of it: the sort that causes a person to surrender and then the sort I had which made me take risks and make plans.
Having a baby’s sweet face so close to your own, for so long a time as it takes to nurse ’em, is a great tonic for a sad soul.
If you’re servant enough, you can shrink into the shadows, even in the bright morning sun and even if you’re large enough to often block it.