Perhaps what you call conventionality, I call decency.

Am I really admitting that my sister is determined to marry a man she has only seen once and doesn't much like the look of? It is half real and half pretense - and I have an idea that it is a game most girls play when they meet an eligible young men. They just...wonder.

I only want to write. And there's no college for that except life.

Perhaps watching someone you love suffer can teach you even more than suffering yourself can.

a loss of sensibility follows a loss of innocence, at once a penalty and a compensation.

I'm convinced England's overflowing with eccentric people, places, happenings. Indeed, you might say eccentricity's normal in England.

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.