Englishmen Must Have An Island.

You Know I'm Old In Some Ways-in Others-well, I'm Just A Little Girl. I Like Sunshine And Pretty Things And Cheerfulness-and I Dread Responsibility.

Nothing Is As Obnoxious As Other People's Luck.

I Want To Die Violently Instead Of Fading Out Sentimentally.

Often I Think Writing Is A Sheer Paring Away Of Oneself Leaving Always Something Thinner, Barer, More Meagre.

But You Can Love More Than Just One Person, Can't You?