No man really knows about other human beings. The best he can do is to suppose that they are like himself.

A man who tells secrets or stories must think of who is hearing or reading, for a story has as many versions as it has readers. Everyone takes what he wants or can from it and thus changes it to his measure. Some pick out parts and reject the rest, some strain the story through their mesh of prejudice, some paint it with their own delight. A story must have some points of contact with the reader to make him feel at home in it. Only then can he accept wonders.

She carried homemade soup to the sick and remembered birthdays. By these means she kept people aware of her existence.

....there is no such thing as just enough money. Only two measures: No Money and Not Enough Money.