The novelist is more like a pregnant woman who delivers her own child unaided. A messy procedure, with lots of groaning.

Always, it is the poor people who pay. And always, it is the poor people's women who pay the most.

I find a certain comfort,' confesses Marinus, 'in humanity's helplessness.

Cynicism can blind one to subtler virtues.

A weapon men use against women is the refusal to take them seriously.

Trees, their incremental gymnastics and noisy silence, are another wonder of Outside to me.