People never like me and I never like people," she thought. "And I never can talk as the Crawford children could. They were always talking and laughing and making noises.

when the day comes that I kneel by your bedside and see your eyes close, or you kneel by mine, it must be that the one who waits behind shall know the parting is not all.

People never like me and I never like people

What you have to do with your mind, when your body is miserable, is to make it think of something else.

She wished she could talk as he did. His speech was so quick and easy. It sounded as if he liked her and was not the least afraid she would not like him, though he was only a common moor boy, in patched clothes and with a funny face and a rough, rusty-red head.

She liked books more than anything else, and was, in fact, always inventing stories of beautiful things and telling them to herself.

...and her mother had been a great beauty who cared only to go to parties and amuse herself with gay parties.