Spring is strictly sentimental, self-regarding; but I burn more careless in the autumn bonfire.

The baby romped on my lap like a short stout salmon.

We are also rather concerned about our moorhen who went mad while we were in Italy and began to build a nest in a tree. ... she walks about in the tree, looking as uneasy yet persevering as a district visitor in a brothel.

I have an idea that conscience impedes quite as many merits as faults, is a sort of alloy, a nickel which may prevent silver from bending but also prevents it from shining.

... possessiveness cannot accept; it cannot even strike a fair bargain; it has to confer.

The fatal flaw of gravity; when you are down, everything falls down on you.

Elizabeth ... had the prerogative of the rich that she could be generous with large sums and niggardly over small ones.