This soul, or life within us, by no means agrees with the life outside us. If one has the courage to ask her what she thinks, she is always saying the very opposite to what other people say.

You can't think how I depend on you, and when you're not there the colour goes out of my life.

My mind turned by anxiety, or other cause, from its scrutiny of blank paper, is like a lost child–wandering the house, sitting on the bottom step to cry.

It is part of the novelist's convention not to mention soup and salmon and ducklings, as if soup and salmon and ducklings were of no importance.

I like to have space to spread my mind out in.

But nevertheless, the fact remained, it was almost impossible to dislike anyone if one looked at them.

The connection between dress and war is not far to seek; your finest clothes are those you wear as soldiers.