I had walked along that street all my life, but had never been so aware that my back was to my home

Jane Austen easily used half a page describing someone else's eyes; she would not appreciate summarizing her reading tastes in ten titles.

Say something worth the words.

My father was often impatient during March, waiting for winter to end, the cold to ease, the sun to reappear. March was an unpredictable month, when it was never clear what might happen. Warm days raised hopes until ice and grey skies shut over the town again.

It was not a house where secrets could be kept easily.

I didn't move. I've learned from years of experience that dogs and falcons and ladies come back to you if you stay where you are.

I find that when I come out of the library I'm in what I call the library bliss of being totally taken away from the distractions of life.