I wanted so terribly to be good to him.

But some characters in books are really real--Jane Austen's are; and I know those five Bennets at the opening of Pride and Prejudice, simply waiting to raven the young men at Netherfield Park, are not giving one thought to the real facts of marriage.

Thinking of death--strange, beautiful, terrible and a long way off--made me feel happier than ever.

Still, looking through the old volumes was soothing, because thinking of the past made the present seem a little less real.

Oh, comfortable cocoa!

And who says you always have to understand things? You can like them without understanding them -- like 'em better sometimes.

Death is too much to ask of the living.