I have found that sitting in a place where you have never sat before can be inspiring.
The family - that dear octopus from whose tentacles we never quite escape, nor, in our inmost hearts, ever quite wish to.
Noble deeds and hot baths are the best cures for depression.
Like many other much-loved humans, they believed that they owned their dogs, instead of realizing that their dogs owned them.
Perhaps watching someone you love suffer can teach you even more than suffering yourself can.
If you love people, you take them on trust.
When I read a book, I put in all the imagination I can, so that it is almost like writing the book as well as reading it - or rather, it is like living it. It makes reading so much more exciting, but I don't suppose many people try to do it.
Contemplation seems to be about the only luxury that costs nothing.
The key to all knowledge comes in words of just one syllable, apparently.... There's only the last page left to write on. I'll fill it with words of just one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.
I only want to write. And there's no college for that except life.
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 remaining forever unchanged at the heart of a ever-changing town.
Even a broken heart doesn't warrant a waste of good paper.
There is something revolting about the way girls' minds so often jump to marriage long before they jump to love.
I was wandering around as usual, in my unpleasantly populated sub-conscious.
What a tiny list of friends I have! All my fault. I less and less want to see people.
I suppose the best kind of spring morning is the best weather God has to offer.
Was I the only woman in the world who, at my age - and after a lifetime of quite rampant independence - still did not quite feel grown up?
Many dogs can understand almost every word humans say, while humans seldom learn to recognize more than half a dozen barks, if that. And barks are only a small part of the dog language. A wagging tail can mean so many things. Humans know that it means a dog is pleased, but not what a dog is saying about his pleasedness.
...I have noticed that when things happen in one's imaginings, they never happen in one's life, so I am curbing myself.
Only the margin left to write on now. I love you, I love you, I love you.
Death is too much to ask of the living.
People's clothes ought to be buried with them.
He stood staring into the wood for a minute, then said: "What is it about the English countryside — why is the beauty so much more than visual? Why does it touch one so?" He sounded faintly sad. Perhaps he finds beauty saddening — I do myself sometimes. Once when I was quite little I asked father why this was and he explained that it was due to our knowledge of beauty's evanescence, which reminds us that we ourselves shall die. Then he said I was probably too young to understand him; but I understood perfectly.
They call them the haunted shores, these stretches of Devonshire and Cornwall and Ireland which rear up against the westward ocean. Mists gather here, and sea fog, and eerie stories. That's not because there are more ghosts here than in other places, mind you. It's just that people who live hereabouts are strangely aware of them.
I shouldn't think even millionaires could eat anything nicer than new bread and real butter and honey for tea.
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