What Reader Wants To Be Told What

Politics Is The Enemy Of The Imagination.

...beauty, She Had Discovered Occupied A Narrow Band. Ugliness, On The Hand, Had Infinite Variation.

I Don't Believe There's Any Inherent Darkness At The Center Of Religion At All. I Think Religion Actually Is A Morally Neutral Force.

The Cost Of Oblivius Daydreaming Was Always This Moment Of Return, The Realigment With What Had Been Before And Now Seemed A Little Worse. Her Reverie, Once Rich In Plausible Details, Had Become A Passing Silliness Before The Hard Mass Of The Actual. It Was Difficult To Come Back.

She Had Lolled About For Three Years At Girton With The Kind Of Books She Could Equally Have Read At Home--jane Austen, Dickens, Conrad, All In The Library Downstairs, In Complete Sets. How Had That Pursuit, Reading The Novels That Others Took As Their Leisure, Let Her Think She Was Superior To Anyone Else?