She was an auxiliary nurse but training to be a true nurse because that was her calling, to serve mankind. She was a Martha. There were Marys and Marthas, but Marys got all the limelight because of being Christ's handmaiden, but Marthas were far more sincere.

August is a wicked month.

In a way Winter is the real Spring - the time when the inner things happen, the resurgence of nature.

There was always a real reason for everything - why spoons tarnished, and jam furred, and people declined into God, or drink, or card games.

Ideally I'd like to spend two evenings a week talking to Proust and another conversing with the Holy Ghost.

Death in its way comes just as much of a surprise as birth.

I am not kind, I cut people off as with shears and I drop them like nettles.