I got my first real six string, bought it at the five and dime, played it 'til my fingers bled.
People think me a sort of Florence Nightingale, but I have no heroic qualities. I simply don’t feel very much.
It’s one thing if a person learns you’re a witch. It’s quite another if he learns you’re a murderer. I almost forget I’m a witch now that I know I’m a murderer—murderess, actually. Murderess sounds so much worse.
You could at least complain,” I say. “I adore complaining. It calms the nerves.
A girl can have the face of an angel but have a horrid sort of heart.
I explained we lost the porch to the flood. Father hasn't gotten around to rebuilding it, although he's quite a good carpenter. He says if Jesus was a carpenter, its good enough for a clergyman. But I don't remember that Jesus let his house fall down.
That’s where proper stories begin, don’t they, when the handsome stranger arrives and everything goes wrong?
If you believe in journalism, you don't insult good journalists.
The endless legacy of the past to the present is the secret source of human genius.
Global poverty is an "input" on the supply side; the global economic system feeds on cheap labor.
To forgive is human, to forget divine.