Men are simpler than you imagine my sweet child. But what goes on in the twisted, tortuous minds of women would baffle anyone.

The peace of Manderley. The quietude and the grace. Whoever lived within its walls, whatever trouble there was and strife, however much uneasiness and pain, no matter what tears were shed, what sorrows borne, the peace of Manderley could not be broken or the loveliness destroyed.

there's something about Paris that gives you a mental slap all the time, and you can't just sit still and do nothing. You've got to work, to keep up with the pace, the sting in the atmosphere.

The point is, life has to be endured, and lived. But how to live it is the problem.

I could not ask forgiveness for something I had not done. As scapegoat, I could only bear the fault.

All autobiography is self-indulgent.

He stole horses' you'll say to yourself, 'and he didn't care for women; and but for my pride I'd have been with him now.