I see through most people; I'm hardly ever wrong. I see at once what they've got in them.

Surely it was time someone invented a new plot, or that the author came out from the bushes.

But Sasha who after all had no English blood in her but was from Russia where the sunsets are longer, the dawns less sudden, and sentences often left unfinished from doubt as to how best to end them.

Finally, I would thank, had I not lost his name and address, a gentleman in America, who has generously and gratuitously corrected the punctuation, the botany, the entomology, the geography, and the chronology of previous works of mine and will, I hope, not spare his services on the present occasion.

If only she could put them together, she felt, write them out in some sentence, then she would have got at the truth of things.

But when we sit together, close,’ said Bernard, ‘we melt into each other with phrases. We are edged with mist. We make an unsubstantial territory.

Conversation, fastidious goddess, loves blood better than brick, and feasts most subtly on the human will.