What A Child Doesn't Receive He Can

We Are Often More Merciful To Our Animals Than We Are To Each Other.

Ambition, If It Were To Be Savored, Let Alone Achieved, Had To Be Rooted In Possibility.

Time Didn't Heal, But It Anesthetized. The Human Mind Could Only Feel So Much.

The Tragedy Of Loss Is Not That We Grieve, But That We Cease To Grieve, And Then Perhaps The Dead Are Dead At Last.

He Didn't Want Her; He Wanted Me. Well, You Know How It Is." Dalgliesh Did Know. This, After All, Was The Commonest, The Most Banal Of Personal Tragedies. You Loved Someone. They Didn't Love You. Worse Still, In Defiance Of Their Own Best Interests And To The Destruction Of Your Peace, They Loved Another. What Would Half The World's Poets And Novelists Do Without This Universal Tragicomedy?