Love Has No Age, No Limit; And

There Are Houses Whose Souls Have Passed Into The Limbo Of Time, Leaving Their Bodies In The Limbo Of London. Such Was Not Quite The Condition Of Timothy's On The Bayswater Road, For Timothy's Soul Still Had One Foot In Timothy Forsyte's Body, And Smither Kept The Atmosphere Unchanging, Of Camphor And Port Wine And House Whose Windows Are Only Opened To Air It Twice A Day.

The Beginnings And Endings Of All Human Undertakings Are Untidy, The Building Of A House, The Writing Of A Novel, The Demolition Of A Bridge, And, Eminently, The Finish Of A Voyage.

Light-heartedness Always Made Soames Suspicious - There Was Generally Some Reason For It.

Early Morning Does Not Mince Words.

I Drink The Wine Of Aspiration And The Drug Of Illusion. Thus I Am Never Dull.