Writers should be read, but neither seen nor heard.

Nothing like a cup of tea to make a person feel better, man or woman.

Looking from the window at the fantastic light and colour of my glittering fairy-world of fact that holds no tenderness, no quietude, I long suddenly for peace, for understanding.

She knew that this was happiness, this was living as she had always wished to live.

He lacked tenderness; he was rude; and he had more than a streak of cruelty in him; he was a thief and a liar. He stood for everything she feared and hated and despised; but she knew she could love him... This was no choice made with the mind.

Because I want to; because I must; because now and forever more this is where I belong to be.

I felt rather exhausted, and wondered, rather shocked at my callous thought, why old people were sometimes such a strain. Worse than young children or puppies because one had to be polite.