I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after.

I cannot express it: but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be, an existence of yours beyond you.

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

Terror made me cruel.

I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.

Oh, I'm burning! I wish I were out of doors! I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free... and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them! Why am I so changed?

Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.