Yes, you have been away a very long time.' 'Oh, centuries and centuries; so long,' she said, 'that I'm sure I'm dead and buried and this dear old place is heaven.

... naturalness is not always consonant with taste.

The moment my eyes fell on him, I was content.

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

Make ones center of life inside ones self, not selfishly or excludingly, but with a kind of unassailable serenity.

I am secretly afraid of animals.... I think it is because of the usness in their eyes, with the underlying not-usness which beliesit, and is so tragic a reminder of the lost age when we human beings branched off and left them: left them to eternal inarticulateness and slavery. Why? their eyes seem to ask us.

To have you here, you mean-in reach and yet out of reach? To meet you in this way, on the sly? It's the very reverse of what I want.