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

The mind is the most capricious of insects — flitting, fluttering.

I was in a queer mood, thinking myself very old: but now I am a woman again - as I always am when I write.

For it is probable that when people talk aloud, the selves (of which there may be more than two thousand) are conscious of disserverment, and are trying to communicate but when communication is established there is nothing more to be said.

As for my next book, I won't write it till it has grown heavy in my mind like a ripe pear; pendant, gravid, asking to be cut or it will fall.

I was lying in bed this morning and saying to myself, 'the remarkable thing about Ethel is her stupendous self-satisfaction' when in came your letter to confirm this profound psychological observation. How delighted I was!

I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.