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To whom can I expose the urgency of my own passion?…There is nobody—here among these grey arches, and moaning pigeons, and cheerful games and traditio...more

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I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life.

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Far rather would she that he were dead! She could not sit beside him when he stared so and did not see her and made everything terrible; sky and tree,...more

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. . . clumsiness is often mated with a love of solitude.

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I spent an hour looking at pots and carpets in the museums the other day, until the desire to describe them became like the desire for the lusts of th...more

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I desired always to stretch the night and fill it fuller and fuller with dreams.

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He looked very old. He looked, James thought, getting his head now against the Lighthouse, now against the waste of waters running away into the open,...more

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It was his power, his gift, suddenly to shed all superfluities, to shrink and diminish so that he looked barer and felt sparer, even physically, yet l...more

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She had known happiness, exquisite happiness, intense happiness, and it silvered the rough waves a little more brightly, as daylight faded, and the bl...more

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The house was left; the house was deserted. It was left like a shell on a sandhill to fill with dry salt grains now that life had left it. The long li...more