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.

There are moments when one can neither think nor feel, she thought, and if one can neithre feel nor think, where's one?

To want and not to have, sent all up her body a hardness, a hollowness, a strain. And then to want and not to have- to want and want- how that wrung the heart, and wrung it again and again!

Men felt a chill in their hearts; a damp in their minds. In a desperate effort to snuggle their feelings into some sort of warmth,one subterfuge was tried after anothersentences swelled, adjectives multiplied, lyrics became epics.

A feminist is any woman who tells the truth about her life

Middlemarch, the magnificent book which with all its imperfections is one of the few English novels for grown-up people.

We seem to be riding on the top of the highest mast of the tallest ship; and yet at the same time we know that nothing of this sort matters; love is not proved thus, nor great achievements completed thus; so that we sport with the moment and preen our feathers in it lightly.