The Rottenness Comes From Within.

I Really Cannot Understand The Point Of What You're Saying. Really,' Said Clotilde, Looking At Her. 'what A Very Extraordinary Person You Are. What Sort Of A Woman Are You? Why Are You Talking Like This? Who Are You?' Miss Marple Pulled Down The Mass Of Pink Wool That Encircled Her Head, A Pink Wool Scarf Of The Same Kind That She Had Once Worn In The West Indies. 'one Of My Names,' She Said, 'is Nemesis.' 'nemesis? And What Does That Mean?' 'i Think You Know,' Said Miss Marple. 'you Are A Very Well Educated Woman. Nemesis Is Long Delayed Sometimes, But It Comes In The End.

Never Tell All You Know—not Even To The Person You Know Best.

Where Do One's Fears Come From? Where Do They Shape Themselves? Where Do They Hide Before Coming Out Into The Open?

To Care Passionately For Another Human Creature Brings Always More Sorrow Than Joy; But At The Same Time, Elinor, One Would Not Be Without Experience. Anyone Who Has Never Really Loved Has Never Really Lived.

There Speaks The Passion And The Rebellion That Go With Red Hair. My Second Wife Had Red Hair. She Was A Beautiful Woman, And She Loved Me. Strange, Is It Not? I Have Always Admired Red-haired Women. Your Hair Is Very Beautiful. There Are Other Things I Like About You. Your Spirit, Your Courage; The Fact That You Have A Mind Of Your Own. ~mr. Aristides