A letter is a risky thing; the writer gambles on the reader's frame of mind.

Grandmother belongs to the generation of women who were satisfied to have men retain their vices, if they removed their hats.

What I object to in Mother is that she wants me to think her thoughts. Apart from the question of hypocrisy, I prefer my own.

the blue and cloudless day closes like the lid of a casket of jewels upon the violet rim of sea, and shuts out the light.

... safety that depends on an apron-string is very unsafe!

Anger as well as love casts out fear.

... it is curious how fatal it is, either to a situation or to an individual, or even to a name, if in an evil moment it becomes funny.