Perhaps it is loving that counts, not the being loved in return- that perhaps true loving can never know anything but happiness.
Walking down Belmotte was the oddest sensation-- every step took us deeper into the mist until at last it closed over our heads. It was like being drowned in the ghost of water.
She will want things to stay just as they are. She will never have the fun of hoping something wonderful and exiting may be just around the corner.
Now, paper and pencils, said Miss Marcy, clapping her hands.Writing paper is scarce in this house, and I had no intention of tearing sheets out of this exercise book, which is a superb sixpenny one th...
My hand is very tired but I want to go on writing. I keep resting and thinking. All day I have been two people - the me imprisoned in yesterday and the me out here on the mound; and now there is a thi...
I believe it is customary to get one's washing over first in baths and bask afterwards; personally, I bask first. I have discovered that the first few minutes are the best and not to be wasted-- my br...
As long as I live I shall remember that silent minute.
It came to me that Hyde Park has never belonged to London - that it has always been , in spirit, a stretch of countryside; and that it links the Londons of all periods together most magically - by rem...
I have noticed that rooms which are extra clean feel extra cold
I couldn't make it out - why you ever let me, I mean. I understand now. Things like that happen when you're in love with the wrong person. Worse things. Things you never forgive yourself for.
He laughed a little, in an odd, nervous kind of way. Because if I don't get going soon, the whole impetus may die--and if that happens, well, I really shall consider a long, restful plunge into insani...
So much of me longs to run after him and cry, 'Yes, yes, yes!' A few hours ago, when I wrote I could never mean anything to him, such a chance would have seemed heaven on earth. And surely I could giv...
Never have I felt so separate from her. And I regret to say that there were moments when my deep and loving pity for her merged into a desire to kick her fairly hard.
I am surprised to see how much I have written; with stories even a page can take me hours, but the truth seems to flow out as fast as I can get it down.
Surely I could give him--a sort of contentment...That isn't enough to give. Not for the giver.
There is something revolting about the way girls' minds so often jump to marriage long before they jump to love. And most of those minds are shut to what marriage really means.
It seemed an awful waste that we weren't in love with each other.
I have found that sitting in a place where you have never sat before can be inspiring - I wrote my very best poem while sitting on the hen-house.
For I know I shall be interrupted-- I shall want to be, really, because life is too exciting to sit still for long.
He talked quite naturally while we ate — about the difficulty of finding words to describe the luminous mist, and why one has the desire to describe beauty.Perhaps it's an attempt to possess it, I sai...