People Who Travel Are Always Fugitives.

I Wish I Was A Woman Of About Thirty-six Dressed In Black Satin With A String Of Pearls.

People Who Travel Are Always Fugitives.

...but I Should Say That Kindliness, And Sincerity, And If I May Say So--modesty--are Worth Far More To A Man, To A Husband, Than All The Wit And Beauty In The World.

Looking From The Window At The Fantastic Light And Colour Of My Glittering Fairy-world Of Fact That Holds No Tenderness, No Quietude, I Long Suddenly For Peace, For Understanding.

I Would Not Be Young Again, If You Offered Me The World. But Then I'm Prejudiced.' 'you Talk,' I Said, 'as If You Were Ninety-nine.' 'for A Woman I Very Nearly Am,' She Said. 'i'm Thirty Five.