Inkstands and tea-cups are never as full as when one upsets them.

...every literature, in its main lines, reflects the chief characteristics of the people for whom, and about whom, it is written.

Poetry and art are the breath of life to her.

One of the great things about travel is you find out how many good, kind people there are.

It frightened him to think what must have gone to the making of her eyes.

He had her in his arms, her face like a wet flower at his lips, and all their vain terrors shriveling up like ghosts at sunrise.

But I have sometimes thought that a woman's nature is like a great house full of rooms: there is the hall, through which everyone passes in going in and out; the drawing-room, where one receives formal visits; the sitting-room, where the members of the family come and go as they list; but beyond that, far beyond, are other rooms, the handles of whose doors perhaps are never turned; no one knows the way to them, no one knows whither they lead; and in the innermost room, the holy of holies, the soul sits alone and waits for a footstep that never comes.