A Quote by James Clavell

Anger is one of the most intimate of emotions and to expose it to strangers is one of the most stupid and sickening things to do. Never get angry with strangers because they are strangers.
What you do with strangers is ignore them for. No second chance, no sorry I did it, never accept an apology, but never, ever get angry with strangers.
Our very lives depend on the ethics of strangers, and most of us are always strangers to other people.
The most important things in our intimate lives can't be discussed with strangers, except in books.
Now they were as strangers; nay worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted.
The Internet is full of strangers, generous strangers who want to help you for no reason at all. Strangers post poetry and discographies and advice and essays and photos and art and diatribes. None of them are known to you, in the old-fashioned sense. But they give the Internet its life and meaning.
The sympathies of a well-adjusted person can easily be aroused by the plight of strangers. Indeed, the skillful writer of a novel, a play, or an opera can engage our emotions on behalf of people who are not only strangers to us, but who do not even exist! And a person whose emotions cannot be so aroused is not behaving normally.
Anger is something you should only vent in front of intimates, and friends and relations. Never be angry in front of strangers because you lose face.
As children, many of us were taught never to talk to strangers. As parents and grandparents, our message must change with technology to include strangers on the Internet.
Most of us remain strangers to ourselves, hiding who we are, and ask other strangers, hiding who they are, to love us.
I really love to be with people. It's nice, that. To have achieved sudden intimacy with strangers is perhaps the most human thing you can do. We all love our friends and families, as much as we hate them. When you can achieve intimacy with strangers, it's very exciting and heartening.
There are too many of us, he thought. There are billions of us and that's too many. Nobody knows anyone. Strangers come and violate you. Strangers come and cut your heart out. Strangers come and take your blood. Good God, who were those men? I never saw them before in my life!
Strangers talking over piles of books do not remain strangers for long.
surrounded by strangers who love me (un)strangers made strange by pain
It might be that some day I shall be drowned by the sea, or die of pneumonia from sleeping out at night, or be robbed and strangled by strangers. These things happen. Even so, I shall be ahead because of trusting the beach, the night and strangers.
How easy it was to lie to strangers, to create with strangers the versions of our lives we imagined.
Would you truly sleep with strangers?" "I don't know, I haven't met the strangers yet.
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