Elizabeth Bowen

Fate is not an eagle, it creeps like a rat.

Nobody can be kinder than the narcissist while you react to life in his own terms.

No object is mysterious. The mystery is your eye.

People of the future may suffer not from an absence of choice but from a paralysing surfeit of it. They may turn out to be victims of that peculiarly super-industrial dilemma: overchoice.

Will not a tiny speck very close to our vision blot out the glory of the world, and leave only a margin by which we see the blot? I know no speck so troublesome as self.

Gray is the color... the most important of all... absent of opinion, nothing, neither/nor.