For it is probable that when people talk aloud, the selves (of which there may be more than two thousand) are conscious of disserverment, and are trying to communicate but when communication is established there is nothing more to be said.

For the young people could not talk. And why should they? Shout, embrace, swing, be up at dawn.

...she took her hand and raised her brush. For a moment it stayed trembling in a painful but exciting ecstacy in the air. Where to begin?--that was the question at what point to make the first mark? One line placed on the canvas committed her to innumerable risks, to frequent and irrevocable decisions. All that in idea seemed simple became in practice immediately complex; as the waves shape themselves symmetrically from the cliff top, but to the swimmer among them are divided by steep gulfs, and foaming crests. Still the risk must run; the mark made.

To read a novel is a difficult and complex art.

Do not move, do not go. Sink within this moment. Hold it for ever.

How lovely goodness is in those who, stepping lightly, go smiling through the world.

Fatigue is the safest sleeping draught.