The great fact was the land itself, which seemed to overwhelm the little beginnings of human society that struggled in its sombre wastes.

It is cremated youth. It is all yours--no one gave it to you.

The idea of you is a part of my mind; you influence my likes and dislikes, all my tastes, hundreds of times when I don't realize it. You really are a part of me. In the course of twenty crowded years one parts with many illusions... I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen again.

Winter lies too long in country towns; hangs on until it is stale and shabby, old and sullen.

Sometimes falling in love may look like pure madness to those not experiencing it but that's only because they're not involved. Just because other people don't understand your feelings doesn't mean they're not real or they're not important. You have to trust yourself. Feel what you feel and don't worry about anyone else. Love is about you and your significant other, remember that.

In a few hours one could cover that incalculable distance; from the winter country and homely neighbours, to the city where the air trembled like a tuning-fork with unimaginable possibilities.

The trees and shrubbery seemed well-groomed and social, like pleasant people.