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

I was wandering around as usual, in my unpleasantly populated sub-conscious.

Oh, comfortable cocoa!

Perhaps what you call conventionality, I call decency.

There was a wonderful atmosphere of gentle age, a smell of flowers and beeswax, sweet yet faintly sour and musty; a smell that makes you feel very tender towards the past.

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.

When I read a book, I put in all the imagination I can, so that it is almost like writing the book as well as reading it - or rather, it is like living it. It makes reading so much more exciting, but I don't suppose many people try to do it.