If people are highly successful in their professions they lose their sense. Sight goes. They have no time to look at pictures. Sound goes. They have no time to listen to music. Speech goes. They have no time for conversation. Humanity goes. Money making becomes so important that they must work by night as well as by day. Health goes. And so competitive do they become that they will not share their work with others though they have more themselves. What then remains of a human being who has lost sight, sound, and sense of proportion? Only a cripple in a cave.

Sleep, that deplorable curtailment of the joy of life.

Mrs Dalloway is always giving parties to cover the silence

Often on a wet day I begin counting up; what I've read; what I haven't read.

What a comfort is friendship in this world.

People ask me why I write. I write to find out what I know.

I enjoy the spring more than the autumn now. One does, I think, as one gets older.