Letters have to pass two tests before they can be classed as good: they must express the personality both of the writer and of the recipient.

One must be fond of people and trust them if one is not to make a mess of life.

Freedom does not guarantee masterpieces.

She loved him absolutely, perhaps for half an hour.

I think you’re beautiful, the only beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I love your voice and everything to do with you, down to your clothes or the room you are sitting in. I adore you.

...the true spirit of gastronomic joylessness. Porridge fills the Englishman up, and prunes clear him out.

Lucy was suffering from the most grievous wrong which this world has yet discovered: diplomatic advantage had been taken of her sincerity, of her craving for sympathy and love. Such a wrong is not easily forgotten. Never again did she expose herself without due consideration and precaution against rebuff. And such a wrong may react disastrously upon the soul.