Noble deeds and hot baths are the best cures for depression.
We were restless for ages...After a while I heard an owl hooting and calmed myself by thinking of it flying over the dark fields – and then I remembered it would be pouncing on mice. I love owls, but I wish God had made them vegetarian.
I think it [religion] is an art, the greatest one; an extension of the communion all the other arts attempt.
Art could state very little - it's whole business is to evoke responses.
Certain unique books seem to be without forerunners or successors as far as their authors are concerned. Even though they may profoundly influence the work of other writers, for their creator they're complete, not leading anywhere.
Why is summer mist romantic and autumn mist just sad?
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 som...
Rose doesn’t like the flat country, but I always did – flat country seems to give the sky such a chance.
...he talked quite naturally while we ate — about the difficulty of finding words to describe the luminous mist, and why one has the desire to describe beauty. "Perhaps it's an attempt to possess it," I said. "Or be possessed by it; perhaps that's ...
I only want to write. And there's no college for that except life.
I have really sinned. I am going to pause now, and sit here on the mound repenting in deepest shame...
Of course, he sees creation as discovery. I mean, everything is already created, by the first cause---call it God if you like; everything is already there to be found.
Everything in the least connected with him has value for me; if someone even mentions his name it is like a little present to me--and I long to mention it myself, I start subjects leading up to it, and then feel myself going red. I keep swearing to m...
Thinking of death--strange, beautiful, terrible and a long way off--made me feel happier than ever.
The Devil's out of fashion.
Am I really admitting that my sister is determined to marry a man she has only seen once and doesn't much like the look of? It is half real and half pretense - and I have an idea that it is a game most girls play when they meet an eligible young men....
Cruel blows of fate call for extreme kindness in the family circle.
Now, paper and pencils," said Miss Marcy, clapping her hands. Writing paper is scarce in this house, and I had no intention of tearing sheets out of this exercise book, which is a superb sixpenny one the Vicar gave me. In the end, Miss Marcy took the...
