“Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?”

Enter freely and of your own free will!

For now, feeling as though my own brain were unhinged or as if the shock had come which must end in its undoing, I turn to my diary for repose. The habit of entering accurately must help sooth me.

I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing.

Oh, my dear, if you only knew how strange is the matter regarding which I am here, it is you who would laugh.

Good women tell all their lives, and by day and by hour and by minute, such things that angels can read.

The blood is the life!

And yet, unless my senses deceive me, the old centuries had, and have, powers of their own which mere ‘modernity’ cannot kill.

Remember my friend, that knowledge is stronger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker

I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.

A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century.

Let me tell you, my friend, that there are things done today in electrical science which would have been deemed unholy by the very man who discovered electricity, who would themselves not so long before been burned as wizards

It is really wonderful how much resilience there is in human nature. Let any obstructing cause, no matter what, be removed in any way, even by death, and we fly back to first principles of hope and enjoyment.

But hush! No telling to others that make so inquisitive questions. We must obey, and silence is a part of obedience, and obedience is to bring you strong and well into loving arms that wait for you.

We see radiating many long arms with innumerable tentaculae, and in the centre rises a gigantic head with a comprehensive brain and keen eyes to look on every side and ears sensitive to hear–and a voracious mouth to swallow.

Oh, why must a man like that be made unhappy when there are lots of girls about who would worship the very ground he trod on?

There is a reason why all things are as they are.

My manner of thinking stems straight from my considered reflections; it holds with my existence, with the way I am made. It is not in my power to alter it; and were it, I’d not do so.

The man who alters his way of thinking to suit others is a fool.

Though sympathy alone can’t alter facts, it can help to make them more bearable.

Most days now his loss is a part of her, an awkward weight she carries around, invisible to everyone else, subtly altering the way she moves through the day. But today, the Anniversary of the day he died, is a day when all bets are off.

Hope and fear cannot alter the seasons

We have become frighteningly effective at altering nature.

Beer is sacred business, a mood-altering food substance that may have preserved the human species.

Our perspective on the past alters. Looking back, immediately in front of us is dead ground.