Second hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack.

Wine has a drastic, an astringent taste. I cannot help wincing as I drink. Ascent of flowers, radiance and heat, are distilled here to a fiery, yellow liquid. Just behind my shoulder-blades some dry thing, wide-eyed, gently closes, gradually lulls itself to sleep. This is rapture. This is relief.

The weather varies between heavy fog and pale sunshine; My thoughts follow the exact same process.

She felt drawing further from her and further from her an Archduke, (she did not mind that) a fortune, (she did not mind that) the safety and circumstance of married life, (she did not mind that) but life she heard going from her, and a lover.

The connection between dress and war is not far to seek; your finest clothes are those you wear as soldiers.

I feel my brains, like a pear, to see if it's ripe; it will be exquisite by September.

what she loved: life, London, this moment of june.