The minute one utters a certainty, the opposite comes to mind.

What is there to do when people die - people so dear and rare - but bring them back by remembering?

A house that does not have one warm, comfy chair in it is soulless.

It is, I assume, quite easy to wither into old age, and hard to grow into it.

There was such a thing as women's work and it consisted chiefly, Hilary sometimes thought, in being able to stand constant interruption and keep your temper. . . .

There are some griefs so loud/They could bring down the sky/And there are griefs so still/None knows how deep they lie.

instant intimacy was too often followed by disillusion.