Sometimes I've thought of an island lost in a boundless sea, where I could live in some hidden valley, among strange trees, in silence. There I think I could find what I want.
She was willing to do everything in the world for me except the one thing I wanted: to leave me alone.
She was like a silvery flower of the night that only gave its perfume to the moonbeams.
She was a fool and he knew it and because he loved her it had made no difference.
She had the serenity of a summer evening when the light fades slowly from the unclouded sky.
She had learnt long ago that common sense, intelligence, good-nature, and strength of character were unimportant in comparison with a pretty face.
She had in point of fact by now made up her mind to accept it, but she well knew that men like to think they decide matters for themselves.
She had asked if he was good-looking. 'No, I don't think he is,' answered Margaret, 'but he's very paintable.' 'That is an answer which has the advantage of sounding well and meaning nothing,' smiled...
Philip that there were three things to find out: man's relation to the world he lives in, man's relation with the men among whom he lives, and finally man's relation
Philip himself asked desperately what was the use of living at all. It all seemed inane. It was the same with Cronshaw: it was quite unimportant that he had lived; he was dead and forgotten; his life...
People talk of beauty lightly, and having no feeling for words, they use that one carelessly, so that it loses its force; and the thing it stands for, sharing its name with a hundred trivial objects,...
Pensei para mim que os homens são mais interessantes do que os livros, mas têm o defeito de não podermos saltar certos capítulos. Temos, no mínimo, de folhear o livro inteiro para encontrar uma página...
On his advice I read The Craft of Fiction by Mr. Percy Lubbock, from which I learned that the only way to write novels was like Henry James; after that I read Aspects of the Novel by Mr. E. M. Forster...
Nothing, I suppose, exasperates a woman more than the sexual desire for her of a man who is physically repellent to her, and when, to put it bluntly, he will not take no for an answer, she may very we...
None was more indifferent to convention than herself, and the marriage tie especially excited her ridicule, but she despised entirely those who disregarded the by-laws of society, yet lacked courage t...
No pain in love is so hard to bear as that which comes from the impossibility of doing any service from the well-beloved, and no service is so repulsive that love cannot make it delightful and easy.
No one ever died of love yet, said the prioress with a savage bitterness.
Nature has neither love nor hate, and with indifference smiles upon the light at heart and to the heavy brings a deeper sorrow.
I don’t think so. It was merely a physical attraction. You know, often the best way to overcome desire is to satisfy it.
I did not believe him capable of love. That is an emotion in which tenderness is an essential part, but Strickland had no tenderness either for himself or for others; there is in love a sense of weakn...