Was I the only woman in the world who, at my age - and after a lifetime of quite rampant independence - still did not quite feel grown up?

...surely I could give him--a sort of contentment... That isn't enough to give. Not for the giver.

I suppose the best kind of spring morning is the best weather God has to offer.

I should rather like to tear these last pages out of the book. Shall I? No-a journal ought not to cheat.

And at last father flung the rug off as if it were hampering him and strode over to the table saying, 'cocoa, cocoa!'-- it might have been the most magnificent drink in the world; which, personally, I think it is.

What is it about the English countryside — why is the beauty so much more than visual? Why does it touch one so?

Noble deeds and hot baths are the best cures for depression.