An easterly is the most disagreeable wind in Lyme Bay — Lyme Bay being that largest bite from the underside of England's outstretched southwestern leg — and a person of curiosity could at once have deduced several strong probabilities about the pair who began to walk down the quay at Lyme Regis, the small but ancient eponym of the inbite, one incisively sharp and blustery morning in the late March of 1867.

Love is the mystery between two people, not the identity.

The dead live." "How do they live?" "By love.

They're beautiful. But sad.' Everything's sad if you make it so, I said.

He's not human; he's an empty space disguised as a human.

I don't think the English like me. I sold a colossal best seller in America, and they never really forgave me.

It came to me…that I didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world at that moment, that what I was feeling at that moment justified all I had been through, because all I had been through was my being there. I was experiencing…a new self-acceptance, a sense that I had to be this mind and this body, its vices and its virtues, and that I had no other chance or choice.