He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

Yet there are moments when the walls of the mind grow thin; when nothing is unabsorbed, and I could fancy that we might blow so vast a bubble that the sun might set and rise in it and we might take the blue of midday and the black of midnight and be cast off and escape from here and now.

There is no room for the impurities of literature in an essay.

The history of most women is hidden either by silence, or by flourishes and ornaments that amount to silence.

Let us record the atoms as they fall upon the mind in the order in which they fall.

She felt, with her hand on the nursery door, that community of feeling with other people which emotion gives as if the walls of partition had become so thin that practically (the feeling was one of relief and happiness) it was all one stream.

Language is wine upon the lips.