“The Atmosphere was not helped by my mother laughing openly at their Christmas tree, on which were arranged twenty-five gingerbread man, each hanging by their necks from a noose-like silver ribbon. “I thought you were against the death penalty, Tania” she said."

"A weekend of non-stop toil. The washing, ironing, folding, putting away of clothes! The washing, drying and putting away of crockery! The sucking up dirt from the floors! The endless wiping of surfaces! The Constant preperation of food! I should have a woman to do all this for me. A woman I don't have to pay. A wife."