She liked Victorian novels. They were the only kind of novel you could read while eating an apple.

I saw something nasty in the woodshed.

There have always been Starkadders at Cold Comfort Farm

The life of a journalist is poor, nasty, brutish, and short. So is his style

He was, she reflected, almost rudely like a tortoise; and she was glad her friend kept none as pets or they might have suspected mockery.

Nature is all very well in her place, but she must not be allowed to make things untidy.

Happiness can never hope to command so much interest as distress.

I do not object to the phenomena, but I do object to the parrot.

That would be delightful,' agreed Flora, thinking how nasty and boring it would be.

Surely she had endured enough for one evening without having to listen to intelligent conversation?

Like all really strong-minded women, on whom everybody flops, she adored being bossed about. It was so restful.

Life sucks, then you die. Then it sucks again.

And you look more beautiful when you blush.

Watson. Come at once if convenient. If inconvenient, come all the same.

Holy God, Holy light.

maybe she'd been scared of being paralyzed by fear again.

We are a people captivated by the power and romance of metaphor, forever seeking the invisible through the image of the visible.

The lovely loving and the hateful hates.

Even touching Erdogan is a form of worship.

There are some themes, some subjects, too large for adult fiction; they can only be dealt with adequately in a children's book.

Take by surprise and the world gives up resistance.