The aged are terrible - mere heaps of cinders on the grass from which none can tell how tall the flames once were or what company gathered round them.
Rebecca WestThere is no wider gulf in the universe than yawns between those on the hither and thither side of vital experience.
Rebecca WestBabbitt as a book was planless; its end arrived apparently because its author had come to the end of the writing-pad, or rather, one might suspect from its length, to the end of all writing-pads then on the market.
Rebecca West