Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman. ToC Twelve years! How many events have occurred during that long interval! how many changes have taken place! The whole aspect of things is altered. He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar. Well, kill me. "All the wonderful things it is going to do! If I could only know for certain that my mother knew how happy I'm going to be!" "You love the memory of your mother?" "It is a part of my blood … my beautiful mother!" He saw Enschede, putting out to sea, alone, memories and regrets crowding upon his wake. ‘She’s gone. ‘She ought to be. She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear. Loneliness.
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