Boys in uniform, carrying guns, marched with their eyes ahead of them, marched, their arms stiff, and on their faces an expression like the letters of a legend written round the base of a statue praising duty, gratitude, fidelity, love of England.

An hour, once it lodges in the queer element of the human spirit, may be stretched to fifty or a hundred times its clock length.

He thought her beautiful, believed her impeccably wise; dreamed of her, wrote poems to her, which, ignoring the subject, she corrected in red ink.

They had always this queer power of communicating without words.

To be myself (I note) I need the illumination of other people's eyes, and therefore cannot be entirely sure what is my self.

If he'd had a boy he'd have said, Work, work. But he had his Elizabeth; he adored his Elizabeth.

Beneath my eyes opens—a book; I see to the bottom; the heart—I see to the depths. I know what loves are trembling into fire; how jealousy shoots its green flashes hither and thither; how intricately love crosses love; love makes knots; love brutally tears them apart. I have been knotted; I have been torn apart.