The desire for symmetry, for balance, for rhythm in form as well as in sound, is one of the most inveterate of human instincts.

The immense accretion of flesh which had descended on her in middle life like a flood of lava on a doomed city had changed her from a plump active little woman with a neatly-turned foot and ankle into something as vast and august as a natural phenomenon. She had accepted this submergence as philosohpically as all her other trials, and now, in extreme old age, was rewarded by presenting to her mirror an almost unwrinkled expanse of firm pink and white flesh, in the centre of which the traces of a small face survived as if awaiting excavation.

They are all alike you know. They hold their tongues for years and you think you're safe, but when the opportunity comes they remember everything.

I can't love you unless I give you up.

Do you remember what you said to me once? That you could help me only by loving me? Well-you did love me for a moment; and it helped me. It has always helped me.

Nothing is more perplexing to a man than the mental process of a woman who reasons her emotions.

My little dog - a heartbeat at my feet.