I was pretending that I did not speak their language; on the moon we spoke a soft, liquid tongue, and sang in the starlight, looking down on the dead dried world.

Bridge is a game for the undivided intellect.

God! Whose hand was I holding?

Gossip says she hanged herself from the turret on the tower, but when you have a house like Hill House with a tower and a turret, gossip would hardly allow you to hang yourself anywhere else.

Poor strangers, they have so much to be afraid of.

I shall weave a suit of leaves. At once. With acorns for buttons.

The sight of one's own heart is degrading; people are not meant to look inward - that's why they've been given bodies, to hide their souls.