Henry turned his hat in his hands but went on looking at Diana in a way that made her want to crawl into his arms and stay there forever.

They were all dressed in their finest as though life really were some magical stage play in which every moment ought to be illuminated with its own bright spotlight.

It seemed to her as though everything that was good and true had been blasted out of the world. All those things had been crushed destroyed made to disappear.

Living too much in one's head can be dangerous.

It had been an awful thing to lose Henry the first time, to matrimony, but to discover what a false front he was capable of was another kind of blow, and it had left her almost speechless. Then there was the fury with herself—for she had known what Henry’s love was, and still she had gone back to suffer a little more at his hands.

Love is all right, as things go, but lovers can be a terrible waste of a girl's time.

That was the way love was, she guessed-it left you always unsteady on your feet.