The most extraordinary thing about writing is that when you've struck the right vein, tiredness goes. It must be an effort, thinking wrong.

How then did it work out, all this? How did one judge people, think of them? How did one add up this and that and conclude that it is liking one felt, or disliking?

I was so pleased and excited by your letter that I trotted about all day like a puppy with a bone.

There is something I want-something I have come to get, and she fell deeper and deeper without knowing quite what it was, with her eyes closed.

Life piles up so fast that I have no time to write out the equally fast rising mound of reflections.

Never pretend that the things you haven't got are not worth having.

Theories then are dangerous things.