Everything may be labelled- but everybody is not.

Don't you ever mind," she asked suddenly, "not being rich enough to buy all the books you want?

Overhead hung a summer sky furrowed with the rush of rockets; and from the east a late moon, pushing up beyond the lofty bend of the coast, sent across the bay a shaft of brightness which paled to ashes in the red glitter of the illuminated boats.

He had to deal all at once with the packed regrets and stifled memories of an inarticulate lifetime.

Life's just a perpetual piecing together of broken bits.

She was very near hating him now; yet the sound of his voice, the way the light fell on his thin, dark hair, the way he sat and moved and wore his clothes—she was conscious that even these trivial things were inwoven with her deepest life.

Silence may be as variously shaded as speech.