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Looking at his face, it sometimes came to her that all women had been cursed from the cradle; all, in one fashion or another, being given the same cruel destiny, born to suffer the weight of men.
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It was he who, unforgivably, taught her that there are people in the world for whom ‘coming along’ is a perpetual process, people who are destined never to arrive.
He hated the evil that lived in his body, and he feared it, as he feared and hated the lions of lust and longing that prowled the defenceless city of his mind.
They came from deeps no child discovers, and shook him with an ague no child endures.
Who is you met, Gabriel, all your holy life long, you ain’t made to drink a cup of sorrow?
