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We lead our lives like water flowing down a hill, going more or less in one direction until we splash into something that forces us to find a new course.

It is easier to live through someone else than to become complete yourself.

Strange new problems are being reported in the growing generations of children whose mothers were always there, driving them around, helping them with their homework — an inability to endure pain or discipline or pursue any self- sustained goal of any sort, a devastating boredom with life.

Instead of fulfilling the promise of infinite orgastic bliss, sex in the America of the feminine mystique is becoming a strangely joyless national compulsion, if not a contemptuous mockery.

Why does my Muse only speak when she is unhappy?

She does not, I only listen when I am unhappy.

And someplace under that, she was sad that people like Bee and Kostos, who had lost everything, were still open to love, and she, who'd lost nothing, was not.

Every witness has his own way of creeping up on the truth.

I knew how it was with drunks. They ran out of generosity, even for themselves.

"You have a secret passion for justice. Why don't you admit it?"

"I have a secret passion for mercy. But justice is what keeps happening to people."

The moral beatings that people took from their children, I was thinking, were the hardest to endure and the hardest to escape.

Deep feeling sounded in her voice. I had no doubt that the feeling was partly sincere. Still, there was something unreal about it. I suspected that she'd been playing tricks with her emotions for a long time, until none of them was quite valid.

Money costs too much.