So the rarest flower, forgiveness, was given a precarious footing in Marlborough House….Mrs. Poultney believed in a God that had never existed; and Sarah knew a God that did.His statement to himself should have been, “I possess this now, therefore I am happy,” instead of what it so Victorianly was: “I cannot possess this forever, and therefore am sad.”His listener felt needed, and a girl who feels needed is already a quarter way in love.Old doctors and old priests share one thing in common: they get a long nose for deceit.
Two moments later she was kneeling by her bed and weeping silently into the worn cover. She should rather have prayed? But she believed she was praying.
They were not the stupid Yankees the Victorian British liked to suppose were universal in the States.
In general back home we say what we think. My impression of London was – forgive me, Mr. Smithson – heaven help you if you don’t say what you don’t think.
…he even glimpsed, though very dimly and only by virtue of a Darwinian analogy, that one day America might supersede the older species.