It is clear that the books owned the shop rather than the other way about. Everywhere they had run wild and taken possession of their habitat, breeding and multiplying, and clearly lacking any strong hand to keep them down.

Until one looks back on one's own past one fails to realise what an extraordinary view of the world a child has.

Books are a habit-forming drug.

The bereaved had never any doubt about their dear ones' wishes and those wishes usually squared with their own inclinations.

There hung about her the restrained energy of a whiplash.

To every problem, there is a most simple solution.

... obsessions are always dangerous.