Ach, Tchekov! Why are you dead? Why can’t I talk to you in a big darkish room at late evening—where the light is green from the waving trees outside? I’d like to write a series of Heavens: that would be one.
Katherine MansfieldThere are always these moments in life when the limits of suffering are reached and we become heroes and heroines.
Katherine MansfieldEvery time one leaves anywhere, something precious, which ought not to be killed, is left to die.
Katherine MansfieldWinter is a terrible time for thin people - terrible! Why should it hound them down, fasten on them, worry them so? Why not, for a change, take a nip, take a snap at the fat ones who wouldn't notice? But no! It is sleek, warm, cat-like summer that makes the fat one's life a misery. Winter is all for bones.
Katherine Mansfield