“I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him.”

“There is a reason that all things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand.”

“Walpurgis Night, when, according to the belief of millions of people, the devil was abroad - when the graves were opened and the dead came forth and walked. When all evil things of earth and air an...”

“Are we to have nothing tonight?" said one of them, with a low laugh, as she pointed to the bag which he had thrown upon the floor, and which moved as though there were some living thing within it. ...”

“The blood is the life!”

“I am glad that it is old and big. I myself am of an old family, and to live in a new house would kill me. A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a cen...”

“I am insane, does that surprise you? Ha! I think my mind is crumbling, just like crackers. If I had written five minutes earlier I would have wept, if I had written ten minutes earlier I would have...”

“When we think we're multitasking we're actually multiswitching. That is what the brain is very good at doing - quickly diverting its attention from one place to the next. We think we're being produ...”

“Learn to deal with the fact that you are not a perfect person but you are a person that deserves respect and honesty.”

“And she's got brains enough for two, which is the exact quantity the girl who marries you will need.”

“Which do you think is more valuable to humanity?a. Finding ways to tell humans that they have free will despite the incontrovertible fact that their actions are completely dictated by the laws of p...”

“The mind can fool the heart, as the heart can fool the mind.”

“IQ's are a combination of eyes, and queues. Would you wait in line to see my goat show? Of course you wouldn't, because the line is invisible.”

“He couldn't tell that this was one of those occasions a man never forgets: a small cicatrice had been made on the memory, a wound that would ache whenever certain things combined - the taste of gin...”