Quotes from Katherine Mansfield

We might be fifty, we might be five, So snug, so compact, so wise are we! Under the kitchen-table leg My knee is pressing against his knee.

I feel as though I were living in a world of strange beings — do you? It's people that make things so — silly. As long as you can keep away from them you're safe and you're happy.

Why does one feel so different at night? Why is it so exciting to be awake when everybody else is asleep? Late—it is very late! And yet every moment you feel more and more wakeful, as though you were slowly, almost with every breath, waking up into a new, wonderful, far more thrilling and exciting world than the daylight one.

Oh, waters - do not cover me! I would look long and long at those beautiful stars! Oh my wings - lift me - lift me I am not so dreadfully hurt...

It's not your fault. Don't think that. It's just fate.

I long to do wild, passionate things.

As for the roses, you could not help feeling they understood that roses are the only flowers that impress people at garden-parties; the only flowers that everybody is certain of knowing.

A wet night. They are going home together under an umbrella. They stop on the door to press their wet cheeks together.

E. M. Forster never gets any further than warming the teapot. He's a rare fine hand at that. Feel this teapot. Is it not beautifully warm? Yes, but there ain't going to be no tea.

Shadow children, thin and small, Now the day is left behind, You are dancing on the wall, On the curtains, on the blind.

You're not very fond of your room by day. You never think about it. You're in and out, the door opens and slams, the cupboard creaks. You sit down on the side of your bed, change your shoes and dash out again. A dive down to the glass, two pins in your hair, powder your nose and off again. But now–at night time- it's suddenly dear to you. It's a darling little funny room. It's yours. Oh, what a joy it is to own things!

You know the feeling that a great writer gives you: my spirit has been fed and refreshed; it has partaken of something new.

There were all her feelings for him, sharp and defined, one as true as the other. And there was the other, this hatred, just as real as the rest. She could have done her feelings up in little packets and given them to Stanley. She longed to hand him that last one, for a surprise. She could see his eyes as he opened that...

Then something immense came into view; an enormous shock-haired giant with his arms stretched out. It was the big gum-tree outside Mrs. Stubbs' shop, and as they passed by there was a strong whiff of eucalyptus. And now big spots of light gleamed in the mist. The shepherd

Regret is an appalling waste of energy, and no one who intends to be a writer can afford to indulge in it.

It was her peculiar curse to never really be unknown.

The late evening is the time of times. Then with that unearthly beauty before one it is not hard to realise how far one has to go. To write something that will be worthy of that rising moon, that pale light.

You put me in touch with my own soul.

My love, my sweet love, I live in another world. A kinder and simpler world. A world of moons and stars and forests, a world filled with danger and magical beauty. It's the old world but to me it's new. You must not be fearful, dear, I quite like it there.

I call it a November-loneliness because there is a sort of demanding stillness in my heart and it, more than ever, inflames both my mental and psychological system. November never pauses, it listlessly seems to show off, don't you think so? Or, rather, it does pause but it is always a hellish pause…

Oh dear, I sometimes think…whatever would I do if anything happened…But thinking's no good, is it, madam? Thinking won't help. When I find myself doing that, I say to myself, "come along, Ellen! Stop it this moment, my girl! Stop that silly thinking…!

Miss Brill had often noticed there was something funny about nearly all of them. They were odd, silent, nearly all old,and from the way stared they looked as though they'd just come from dark little rooms of even, even cupboards!

Ne için buradas?n?" "Sinirden." "Ah, mümkün deÄŸil, gerçekten inanamam buna." "Tam anlam?yla doÄŸru," dedim coÅŸkum sönerken. Çelik gibi sinirleri olduÄŸundan kuÅŸku duyulmamas?ndan daha tedirgin edici ÅŸey yoktur bir kad?n için.

The smell of leaves and wet black earth mingled with the sharp smell of the sea.