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

Odd how the creative power at once brings the whole universe to order.

Night had come—night that she loved of all times, night in which the reflections in the dark pool of the mind shine more clearly than by day.

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

For the film maker must come by his convention, as painters and writers and musicians have done before him.

Submit to me." So she said nothing, but looked doggedly and sadly at the shore, wrapped in its mantle of peace; as if the people there had fallen alseep, she thought; were free like smoke, were free to come and go like ghosts. They have no suffering there, she thought.

At last she shut the book sharply, lay back, and drew a deep breath, expressive of the wonder which always marks the transition from the imaginary world to the real world.