Certain unique books seem to be without forerunners or successors as far as their authors are concerned. Even though they may profoundly influence the work of other writers, for their creator they're complete, not leading anywhere.

I wonder if there isn't a catch about having plenty of money? Does it eventually take the pleasure out of things?

What a tiny list of friends I have! All my fault. I less and less want to see people.

The tea was a comfort - and by that time I more than needed comfort.

Contemplation seems to be about the only luxury that costs nothing.

Prayer's a very tricky business.

They call them the haunted shores, these stretches of Devonshire and Cornwall and Ireland which rear up against the westward ocean. Mists gather here, and sea fog, and eerie stories. That's not because there are more ghosts here than in other places, mind you. It's just that people who live hereabouts are strangely aware of them.