For I'm afraid of loneliness; shiveringly, terribly afraid. I don't mean the ordinary physical loneliness, for here I am, deliberately travelled away from London to get to it, to its spaciousness and healing. I mean that awful loneliness of spirit that is the ultimate tragedy of life. When you've got to that, really reached it, without hope, without escape, you die. You just can't bear it, and you die.

And the summer seems as though it would dream on for ever.

What a blessing it is to love books.

Guests can be, and often are, delightful, but they should never be allowed to get the upper hand.

Who can begin conventional amiability the first thing in the morning?

Well, I for one am unable to imagine how anybody who lives with an intelligent and devoted dog can every be lonely.

For I'm afraid of loneliness; shiveringly, terribly afraid. I don't mean the ordinary physical loneliness, for here I am, deliberately travelled away from London to get to it, to its spaciousness and healing. I mean that awful loneliness of spirit that is the ultimate tragedy of life. When you've got to that, really reached it, without hope, without escape, you die. You just can't bear it, and you die.