Isn't life,' she stammered, 'isn't life--' But what life was she couldn't explain. No matter. He quite understood. 'Isn't it, darling?' said Laurie.

roses are the only flowers at garden-parties; the only flowers that everybody is certain of knowing.

How idiotic civilization is! Why be given a body if you have to keep it shut up in a case like a rare, rare fiddle?

Once we have learned to read, meaning of words can somehow register without consciousness.

The mind I love must have wild places.

No, no the mind I love must still have wild places - a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, an overgrown litde wood, the chance of a snake or two (real snakes), a pool that nobody's fathomed the depth of, and paths threaded with those litde flowers planted by the wind.

As in the physical world, so in the spiritual world, pain does not last forever.