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Too late... everything's always too late.

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I was yours once till death if you cared to keep me, but I'm someone else's now--I can't hang about whining for ever--and he's mine in a way that shoc...more

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After all, is not a real Hell better than a manufactured Heaven?

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He had awoken too late for happiness, but not for strength, and could feel an austere joy, as of a warrior who is homeless but stands fully armed.

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They must live outside class, without relations or money; they must work and stick to each other till death. But England belonged to them. That, besid...more