Sometimes I don't know whether I'm real or whether I'm a character in one of my novels.

And after reading Thoreau I felt how much I have lost by leaving nature out of my life.

he was figuratively following along beside her as she walked the fence, ready to catch her if she should fall.

But his heart was in a constant, turbulent riot.

Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

He had angered Providence by resisting too many temptations. There was nothing left but heaven, where he would meet only those who, like him, had wasted earth.

We haven’t met for many years, said Daisy, her voice as matter-of-fact as it could ever be. "Five years next November." The automatic quality set us all back at least another minute.