Women and fiction remain, so far as I am concerned, unsolved problems.
If woman had no existence save in the fiction written by men, one would imagine her a person of the utmost importance (...); as great as a man, some think even greater. But this is woman in fiction. I...
Then may I tell you that the very next words I read were these – ‘Chloe liked Olivia…’ Do not start. Do not blush. Let us admit in the privacy of our own society that these things sometimes happen. So...
Few people ask from books what books can give us. Most commonly we come to books with blurred and divided minds, asking of fiction that it shall be true, of poetry that it shall be false, of biography...
Death is woven in with the violets, said Louis. Death and again death.)
I am extremely happy walking on the downs...I like to have space to spread my mind out in.
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...
I am not one and simple, but complex and many.
Humor is the first of the gifts to perish in a foreign tongue.
Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night.
I ransack public libraries, and find them full of sunk treasure.
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.
For most of history, Anonymous was a woman.
It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top.
Venerable are letters, infinitely brave, forlorn, and lost.
The great cathedral space which was childhood.
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.
Books are the mirrors of the soul.
All raw, uncooked, protesting."(on Aldous Huxley)
My head is a hive of words that won't settle.