Цитаты из книг — В.Н.П. Барбеллион

A woman is calmly knitting socks or playing Patience while her husband or sweetheart lies dead in Flanders. However strong the tie that binds them together yet they are insufficiently en rapport for her to sense even a catastrophe—and she must wait till the War Office forsooth sends her word. How humiliating that the War…

On a 'bus the other day a woman with a baby sat opposite, the baby bawled, and the woman at once began to unlace herself, exposing a large, red udder, which she swung into the baby's face. The infant, however, continued to cry and the woman said,— "Come on, there's a good boy—if you don't, I shall give it to the gentleman…

Often in the middle of a quite vivid ten seconds of life, I find I have switched myself off from myself to make room for the person of a disinterested and usually vulgar spectator. Even in the thrill of a devotional kiss I have overheard myself saying, "Hot stuff, this witch."

Some time ago I noticed a quotation from one Marie Bashkirtseff in a book on Strindberg, and was struck with the likeness to a sentiment of my own. Who are you? I wondered. This evening went to the Library and read about her in Mathilde Blind's introductory essay to her Journal. I am simply astounded. It would be…

"I suppose shirts are difficult to buy. You wouldn't know what to do with one if you had one. Your mother will lead you by the hand into a shop and say, 'H——, dear, this is a shirt,' and you'll reply with pathos, 'Mother what are the wild shirts saying?'"

February 10. News of Scott's great adventure! Scott dead a year ago!! The news, when I saw it to-night in the Pall Mall Gazette gave me cold thrills. I could have wept.... What splendid people we humans are! If there be no loving God to watch us, it's a pity for His sake as much as for our own.

"My career" so far has been like the White Knight's, who fell off behind when the horse started, in front when it stopped, and sideways occasionally to vary the monotony.

I was ambitious before I was breeched. I can remember wondering as a child if I were a young Macaulay or Ruskin and secretly deciding that I was.