We are beginning to wonder whether a servant girl hasn't the best of it after all. She knows how the salad tastes without the dressing, and she knows how life's lived before it gets to the parlor door.

None of us suffers as much as we should, or loves as much as we say. Love is the first lie; wisdom the last.

We are but skin about a wind, with muscles clenched against mortality.

Our bones ache only while the flesh is on them.

Madness to us means reversion; to such people as Una and Lena it meant progression. Now their uncle had entered into a land beyond them, the land of fancy. For fifty years he had been as they were, silent, hard-working, unimaginative. Then all of a sudden, like a scholar passing his degree, he had gone up into another form.

I talk too much because I have been made so miserable by what you are keeping hushed.

Time is a great conference planning our end, and youth is only the past putting a leg forward.