And it was awfully strange, he thought, how she still had the power, as she came tinkling, rustling, still had the power as she came across the room, to make the moon, which he detested, rise at Bourton on the terrace in the summer sky.
Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.
There was no freedom in life, and certainly there was none in death.
At 46 one must be a miser; only have time for essentials.
How lovely goodness is in those who, stepping lightly, go smiling through the world.
For if Chloe likes Olivia and Mary Carmichael knows how to express it she will light a torch in that vast chamber where nobody has yet been.