It is a time of quiet joy, the sunny morning. When the glittery dew is on the mallow weeds, each leaf holds a jewel which is beautiful if not valuable. This is no time for hurry or for bustle. Thoughts are slow and deep and golden in the morning.

Change was everywhere. People were gone, or changed, and that was almost like being gone.

Money is not nice. Money got no friends but more money.

The misery stayed, not thought about but aching away, and sometimes I would have to ask myself, Why do I ache? Men can get used to anything, but it takes time.

I have thought that men and women should never come together except in bed. There is the only place where their natural hatred of each other is not so apparent.

Maybe the hardest thing in writing is simply to tell the truth about things as we see them.

You're getting well,' Samuel said. 'Some people think it's an insult to the glory of their sickness to get well. But the time poultice is no respecter of glories. Everyone gets well if he waits around.