"I was not offended, my love. An insult is like a drink; it affects one only if accepted. And pride is too heavy baggage for my journey."

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I hated waiting. If I had one particular complaint, it was that my life seemed composed entirely of expectation. I expected — an arrival, an explanation, an apology. There had never been one, a fact I could have accepted, were it not true that, just when I had got used to the limits and dimensions of one moment, I was expelled into the next and made to wonder again if any shapes hid in its shadows.

— Marilynne Robinson