She says the clogs are comfortable, and that comfort trumps fashion as far as she's concerned. Gavin has tried quoting Yeats to the effect that women must labour to be beautiful, but Reynolds Ãƒ¢Ã¢'¬Ã¢â‚¬œ who used to be a passionate Yeats fan Ãƒ¢Ã¢'¬Ã¢â‚¬œ is now of the opinion that Yeats is entitled to his point of view, but that was then and social attitudes were different, and in actual fact Yeats is dead. Reynolds

But what if she discovers the truth? What he suspects is the truth. That he's patchwork, a tin man, his heart stuffed with sawdust. He thinks of her waiting for him, somewhere else, an island, subtropical, not muggy, her long hair waving in the sea breeze, a red hibiscus tucked behind one ear. If he's lucky she'll wait till that happens, till he can get there to be with her.

What were prizes but one more level of control imposed on Art by the establishment?

You don't teach boys to be charming. It makes people think they are devious.

You think I didn't hate their pity, their forced kindness? And knowing that no matter what I did, how virtuous I was, or hardworking, I would never be beautiful. Not like her, the one who merely had to sit there to be adored. You wonder why I stabbed the blue eyes of my dolls with pins and pulled their hair out until they were bald? Life isn't fair. Why should I be?

Gavin has tried quoting Yeats to the effect that women must labour to be beautiful, but Reynolds--who used to be a passionate Yeats fan--is now of the opinion that Yeats is entitled to his point of view, but that was then and social attitudes were different then, and in actual fact Yeats is dead.

She looks at you as if she really sees you." So many people had looked past me. "I think I'd like that," I said. "No," said Becka. "That's why she's so scary.

We are thankful for good-will rather than for services, for the motive than the quantum of favor received.

Every time you look in the mirror remember that God created you and that everything He creates is beautiful and good!

I don't concern myself with award. I'd been to the party enough times to know it really didn't matter.

The good thing about not being drop-dead gorgeous is that as time passes, I don't have much to worry about. I have friends who are actors and every day they look in the mirror with trepidation.

The only sensible person is my tailor. He measures me anew each time he sees me.