I Capture the Castle

There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.

Noble deeds and hot baths are the best cures for depression.

How I wish I lived in a Jane Austen novel!

I shouldn't think even millionaires could eat anything nicer than new bread and real butter and honey for tea.

I only want to write. And there's no college for that except life.

When I read a book, I put in all the imagination I can, so that it is almost like writing the book as well as reading it - or rather, it is like living it. It makes reading so much more exciting, but I don't suppose many people try to do it.

I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.

Perhaps watching someone you love suffer can teach you even more than suffering yourself can.

Why is summer mist romantic and autumn mist just sad?

Contemplation seems to be about the only luxury that costs nothing.

I like seeing people when they can't see me.

I am a restlessness inside a stillness inside a restlessness.

Even a broken heart doesn't warrant a waste of good paper.

...I have noticed that when things happen in one's imaginings, they never happen in one's life, so I am curbing myself.

Perhaps if I make myself write I shall find out what is wrong with me.

And no bathroom on earth will make up for marrying a bearded man you hate.

Only the margin left to write on now. I love you, I love you, I love you.

He stood staring into the wood for a minute, then said: "What is it about the English countryside — why is the beauty so much more than visual? Why does it touch one so?" He sounded faintly sad. Perhaps he finds beauty saddening — I do myself sometimes. Once when I was quite little I asked father why this was and he explained that it was due to our knowledge of beauty's evanescence, which reminds us that we ourselves shall die. Then he said I was probably too young to understand him; but I understood perfectly.

Just to be in love seemed the most blissful luxury I had ever known. The thought came to me that perhaps it is the loving that counts, not the being loved in return—that perhaps true loving can never know anything but happiness. For a moment I felt that I had discovered a great truth.

Oh, it is wonderful to wake up in the morning with things to look forward to!

I was wandering around as usual, in my unpleasantly populated sub-conscious...

Ah, but you're the insidious type--Jane Eyre with of touch of Becky Sharp. A thoroughly dangerous girl.

It is rather exciting to write by moonlight.

Truthfulness so often goes with ruthlessness.

I have noticed that rooms which are extra clean feel extra cold

So many of the loveliest things in England are melancholy.

I suppose the best kind of spring morning is the best weather God has to offer.

It's odd how different a house feels when one is alone in it. It makes it easier to think rather private thoughts...

Rose doesn’t like the flat country, but I always did – flat country seems to give the sky such a chance.

There is something revolting about the way girls' minds so often jump to marriage long before they jump to love.