Strange that only a little problem of your own will take your mind far from a tragedy belonging to others.

A man will never know a woman until he knows her work.

O, there is lovely to feel a book, a good book, firm in the hand, for its fatness holds rich promise, and you are hot inside to think of good hours to come.

Everywhere was singing, all over the house was singing, and outside the house was alive with singing, and the very air was song.

O, blackberry tart, with berries as big as your thumb, purple and black, and thick with juice, and a crust to endear them that will go to cream in your mouth, and both passing down with such a taste that will make you close your eyes and wish you might live forever in the wideness of that rich moment.

There is no fence or hedge round time that has gone. You can go back and have what you like if you remember it well enough.

Why is it, I wonder, that people suffer, when there is so little need, when an effort of will and some hard work would bring them from their misery into peace and contentment.