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One always imagines that the days that change one’s life must be marked with something extraordinary in nature—storms and lightning, darkness at noon, and so on. In truth they are indistinguishable from any other, which is one reason we feel mocked, as if the world is telling us we are inconsequential.

Margaret George

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Margaret George
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I was ever the realist, sometimes to my sorrow. But seldom to my regret.
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The most wicked criminals have God on their lips at all times, for God is the only one who can stomach them.
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The strong look for more strength, the weak for excuses.
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Yet we always envy others, comparing our shadows to their sunlit sides.
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Defeat I can endure with cheerfulness, my lady. But betrayal is like taking the wind from my sails, or the earth from beneath my feet. It chills my spirits like a rainy day, and all I can do is draw the curtains and cry into my pillow.
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It is only when our fate hangs in the balance, when our very life depends on something, that we see whether or not we trust that the rope to which we are clinging will support us. If we do not, then we let of of the ledge and swing on it with our full weight.
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Hope is a straw hat hanging beside a window covered with frost.
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We are more than our bodies, it is true but we cannot be divorced from them. They are us, and the only way in which we can see one another. Perhaps the gods are above this, but in their mercy, they have given us the guise of bodies.
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The cure for a broken heart is simple, my lady. A hot bath and a good night's sleep.
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Boredom is that awful state of inaction when the very medicine - that is, activity - which could solve it, is seen as odious.
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