A dreamer, I walked enchanted, and nothing held me back.

I could fight with the living but I could not fight the dead. If there was some woman in London that Maxim loved, someone he wrote to, visited, dined with, slept with, I could fight her. We would stand on common ground. I should not be afraid. Anger and jealousy were things that could be conquered. One day the woman would grow old or tired or different, and Maxim would not love her anymore. But Rebecca would never grow old. Rebecca would always be the same. And she and I could not fight. She was to strong for me.

no person will ever get into my blood as a place can ... People and things pass away, but not places.

Life and death do not wait for legal action.

How simple life becomes when things like mirrors are forgotten.

...the routine of life goes on, whatever happens, we do the same things, go through the little performance of eating, sleeping, washing. No crisis can break through the crust of habit.

A familiar name on its own, however, does not carry its bearer far unless the talent is there, and the will to work.