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he seemed to be smiling across something.
so difficult—at least, I find it difficult—to understand people who speak the truth.”
have you ever noticed that there are people who do things which are most indelicate, and yet at the same time—beautiful?”
She walked about disdainfully, unwilling to be enthusiastic over monuments of uncertain authorship or date.
instead of acquiring information, she began to be happy.
“Then make my boy think like us. Make him realize that by the side of the everlasting Why there is a Yes—a transitory Yes if you like, but a Yes.”
For a moment she understood the nature of ghosts.
She had bowed across the rubbish that cumbers the world.
Life is easy to chronicle, but bewildering to practice,
She disliked confidences, for they might lead to self-knowledge and to that king of terrors—Light.
she knew that she wanted something, and independence is a useful cry; we can always say that we have not got it.
