This Englishwoman is so refined, She has no bosom and no behind.

I like to see cats in movement. A galloping cat is a fine sight. See it cross the road in a streak, cursed by the drivers of motor cars and buses, dodging the butcher's bicycle, coming safe to the kerb and bellying under its home gate.

My Muse sits forlorn She wishes she had not been born She sits in the cold No word she says is ever told.

There are moments of despair that come sometimes, when night sets in and a white fog presses against the windows. Then our house changes its shape, rears up and becomes a place of despair. Then fear and rage run simply--and the thought of Death as a friend. This is the simplest of thoughts, that Death must come when we call, although he is a god.

Life in the [London] suburb is richer at the lower levels. At these levels the people are not self-conscious at all, they are at liberty to be as eccentric as they please, they do not know that they are eccentric.

one never knows really how things are with other people, they just do always seem more spirited than oneself somehow.

Unpopular, lonely and loving, Elinor need not trouble, For if she were not so loving, She would not be so miserable.