The sea was indistinguishable from the sky, except that the sea was slightly creased as if a cloth had wrinkles in it.

Love and religion! thought Clarissa, going back into the drawing room, tingling all over. How detestable, how detestable they are!

As I grow old I hate the writing of letters more and more, and like getting them better and better.

Without self awareness we are as babies in the cradles.

As a woman I have no country. As a woman my country is the whole world.

Then may I tell you that the very next words I read were these – ‘Chloe liked Olivia…’ Do not start. Do not blush. Let us admit in the privacy of our own society that these things sometimes happen. Sometimes women do like women.

To enjoy freedom we have to control ourselves.