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

...I have noticed that when things happen in one's imaginings, they never happen in one's life, so I am curbing myself.

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

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

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

So many of the loveliest things in England are melancholy.