Why are women... so much more interesting to men than men are to women?
To enjoy freedom we have to control ourselves.
I am extremely happy walking on the downs...I like to have space to spread my mind out in.
. . clumsiness is often mated with a love of solitude.
I often wish I'd got on better with your father,' he said.But he never liked anyone who--our friends,' said Clarissa; and could have bitten her tongue for thus reminding Peter that he had wanted to ma...
Death is woven in with the violets, said Louis. Death and again death.)
I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.
How could any Lord have made this world?... there is no reason, order, justice: but suffering, death, the poor. There was no treachery too base for this world to commit... No happiness lasted.
Humor is the first of the gifts to perish in a foreign tongue.
I enjoy the spring more than the autumn now. One does, I think, as one gets older.
It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top.
I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life.
Fiction is like a spider's web, attached ever so lightly perhaps, but still attached to life at all four corners.
Anyone who has the temerity to write about Jane Austen is aware of [two] facts: first, that of all great writers she is the most difficult to catch in the act of greatness; second, that there are twen...
It was a desire, an echo, a sound; she could drape it in color, see it in form, hear it in music, but not in words; no, never in words. She sighed, teased by desires so incoherent, so incommunicable.
So fine was the morning except for a streak of wind here and there that the sea and sky looked all one fabric, as if sails were stuck high up in the sky, or the clouds had dropped down into the sea.
First a warning, musical; then the hour, irrevocable. The leaden circles dissolved in the air.
Humour is the first of the gifts to perish in a foreign tongue.
I ransack public libraries, and find them full of sunk treasure.
I do not believe that gifts, whether of mind or character, can be weighed like sugar and butter