...the floss-silk manes tossed up like the crest of a breaking wave....Light ran and glittered on them. They were obedient...you would have sworn...as the white horses of the wave crests are to pull of the moon.

I sometimes think it's a mistake to have been happy when one was a child. One should always want to go on, not back.

The best way of forgetting how you think you feel is to concentrate on what you know you know.

Well, what was luck for if it was never to be tempted?

To plant a garden is the chief of the arts of peace.

It is not true that women cannot keep secrets. Where they love, they can be trusted to death and beyond, against all sense and reason. It is their weakness, and their great strength.

The sense of smell is the hair-trigger of memory.