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THE ONLY THING WORSE THAN A BOY WHO HATES YOU A boy who loves you.
is there cowardice in the acknowledgment of fear? Is there cowardice in being glad that you lived?
“If we gamble on a Jew,” said Papa soon after, “I would prefer to gamble on a live one,”
mystery. Mystery bores me. It chores me. I know what happens and so do you. It’s the machinations that wheel us there that aggravate, perplex, interest, and astound me.
Can a person steal happiness? Or is it just another internal, infernal human trick?
What someone says and what happened are usually two different things,
