to possess one single thing (it is Louis now) must waver, like the light in and out of the beech leaves; and then words, moving darkly, in the depths of your mind will break up this knot of hardness, screwed in your pocket-handkerchief.

“All the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one …”

“I really don't advise a woman who wants to have things her own way to get marri…”

“Nothing could be slow enough, nothing lasts too long. No pleasure could equal, …”

“It is as if Emily Brontë could tear up all that we know human beings by, and fi…”