The sigh of all the seas breaking in measure round the isles soothed them; the night wrapped them; nothing broke their sleep, until, the birds beginning and the dawn weaving their thin voices in to its whiteness

Beauty was not everything. Beauty had this penalty — it came too readily, came too completely. It stilled life — froze it.

I [who] am perpetually making notes in the margin of my mind for some final statement.

Yield to that strange passion which sends you madly whirling round the room.

Anyone who has the temerity to write about Jane Austen is aware of [two] facts: first, that of all great writers she is the most difficult to catch in the act of greatness; second, that there are twenty-five elderly gentlemen living in the neighbourhood of London who resent any slight upon her genius as if it were an insult to the chastity of their aunts.

Talents of the novelist: ... observation of character, analysis of emotion, people's feelings, personal relations.

One of the signs of passing youth is the birth of a sense of fellowship with other human beings as we take our place among them.