I do not want to be admired. I want to give, to be given, and solitude in which to unfold my possessions.

Fear no more, says the heart.

Disastrous would have been the result if a fire or a death had suddenly demanded something heroic of human nature, but tragedies come in the hungry hours.

If one is to deal with people on a large scale and say what one thinks, how can one avoid melancholy? I don’t admit to being hopeless, though: only the spectacle is a profoundly strange one; and as the current answers don’t do, one has to grope for a new one, and the process of discarding the old, when one is by no means certain what to put in their place, is a sad one.

I feel my brains, like a pear, to see if it's ripe; it will be exquisite by September.

He smiled the most exquisite smile, veiled by memory, tinged by dreams.

what she loved: life, London, this moment of june.