Quotes from D.E. Stevenson

The leaves were beginning to fall. They fell reluctantly. They hovered in the air and drifted slowly sideways to the damp ground. You would wonder why, having survived days of wind and rain, they should detach themselves now, at this moment of peace. Did they part with the twigs voluntarily? Did they say, 'Goodbye, we clung to you when the wind raged, but now our time has come?' Gently and slowly they drifted to the ground making a carpet of brown and gold upon the grass.

Evidently it was an unusual and interesting virus for quite a number of doctors had come to look at her and sounded her heart and tapped her knees and done other curious and uncomfortable things. Barbie had lain supine and allowed them to do what they liked. Her body was not her own any more. If it had been her body, only, Barbie would not have minded so much, but 'the virus' had invaded her soul.

There was no opportunity to discuss his plans with Wynne that night, but the following morning he sought her out and issued his invitation. "It will give me great pleasure," said Franz in a solemn voice, "it will give me great pleasure if you will dine with me tonight. I will telephone and order a nice dinner at the Grand Hotel and afterwards we will go to the Picture House. I see in the newspaper that Norma Shearer is there, and it says the film is very good.

I reply, with all the firmness at my command, that I have certain duties to perform. They may not be spectacular, but they are my small contribution to our war effort . . . and Betty must be educated. . . . Guthrie says, "Why must she be educated? I hate well-educated women, they are always boring.

Yes," says Grace nodding. "I should enjoy it, but you think I shouldn't enjoy it so blatantly. Well, you may be right, but I can't help it." She looks thoughtful for a moment and then continues, "Good things come in waves. This is one of the times when everything goes right . . . then there are times when everything goes wrong. That's my experience of life.

It's a great blessing to have a good memory . . . it's my picture book and I can turn over the leaves when I like. So many of my memories are centred here in Dunnian, so many people have lived in the old house. There were seven of us and they're all dead except me, but I can see them if I shut my eyes. Their youth is here—still here in Dunnian.

interested in Barbara, whom, after eighteen months of daily contact, he was just beginning to know. The strangest thing about Barbara, Arthur reflected, the strangest thing about this strange woman who was now his lawful wedded wife, was that although she understood practically nothing, she yet understood everything.

Perhaps your father wouldn't like it?" suggested Patty doubtfully. "Uncle James didn't like it much. I mean Hugo had to be very tactful about it. He couldn't really get on with his plans until Uncle James died. He died quite suddenly." (Arsenic, thought Will—but he still remained silent.)

When Tilly was fifteen she had imagined herself in love with Archie Cobbe, for he was exactly the sort of young man to awaken a romantic attachment. He was so big and so good-looking and people said he was wild. You met him sometimes, riding about Chevis Green on a prancing horse and he always waved his cap and shouted "Hallo!" Then old Lady Chevis had died and left him Chevis Place, and Archie had taken the name of "Chevis" and settled down into a model squire.

I'll not wheesht! Those children get no fun at all, they're shut up in the attics from one year's end to another — it's a wonder to me if their mother knows them by sight. I wouldn't be them for a good deal." Janet rose as she spoke and flounced out of the room, adding as a parting shot, "The dog has a better life; he's allowed to lie on the hearth-rug anyway.

Very pretty walk across the fields, church bells in the distance play hymns slightly out of tune. Find that Lady M. was donor of bells (fortunately before I remarked upon their dissonance).

This leads us to discuss the strange anomaly of marriage—why is it that selfish wives nearly always have saintly husbands, and how is it that selfish husbands are usually provided with door-mat wives?

Too much bother,' said Zilla languidly. 'I let it once to some friends of the Carews who wanted it for the shooting; the dogs slept on the beds and chairs and the sofa in the sitting-room—shooting dogs, Kit! The whole place smelt of animals. You haven't got animals, have you?' 'No,' I said, laughing. 'Only three children; they're quite enough for one woman to look after.

I don't always listen to things ... at least I do listen, but, unless the things are going to be useful to mc, I don't keep them.

Oh, I don't know. I just had a feeling that it was nice of her to be nice—if you see what I mean. She thinks Hugo is marvellous—and of course he is," added Patty hastily. "Does your father like him?" "Yes, of course. Everybody likes him.

She smiles and says I only think so because my standard has gone up. Reply that she really does not know me, I am a rebel at heart. 'The only people who are not rebels are vegetable marrows,' says Mrs. Parsons. Reply that it would be rather nice to be a vegetable marrow never to be discontented or miserable without any reason for being so. Mrs. Parsons laughs and says 'Perhaps but how dull never to be joyful and happy without any reason for being so!

Mrs. Parsons says, 'I know exactly what you mean but I envy you all the same. I envy you going to new places every few years – meeting new people and making new friends. It is such an interesting thing to study people, to get inside their skins and see life from their point of view. And you can do it. Some people travel all over the world and see nothing. They go about clad in a thick fog of their own making through which no impressions can penetrate

Offer him Ardfalloch for three months,' said Mr. Simpson. 'You need the money.' I told him I did not want to let Ardfalloch. 'You will sell a farm then,' he told me. 'Something you must do, MacAslan.' He showed me figures in a book, Donald, and I saw, then, that it was true. Something must be done. Figures are strange things," continued the voice in the darkness thoughtfully. "Columns of figures—and when they are added up—

Because if you walk in a city you're jostled by hundreds of indifferent people with indifferent eyes that look at you as if you weren't there at all. You begin to feel you must be invisible. Hundreds and thousands of eyes, and not one pair really seeing you or caring who you are. I'd rather walk down Beilford High Street and know that everybody was saying, 'There goes the mad painter!' It's better to be mad than invisible." She

Yes," says Bryan. "If Edgeburton wants some extra dibs he's only got to write a letter to his grandfather and he gets a postal order for five bob by return . . . he doesn't ask for it, even." "I hope not." "No," says Bryan. "He doesn't need to ask. Edgeburton just writes and says 'How are you?' and that sort of thing and the money arrives." "Edgeburton must write a very good letter.

she says she is delighted to have twins because they will be such nice companions for each other. They will do everything together, of course. The only thing that worries her is that she does not see how she and Jack can possibly afford to send them both to Eton . . . and it would never do to send one and not the other. I suggest that she should leave the future to look after itself.

Arnold was very clever," she said at last. "He saw how unsettled the world was—everything slipping downhill. He was sure there was going to be another war. Sometimes I almost feel glad he didn't live to see it. He said things were going from bad to worse and he was quite right, of course . . . but it doesn't help to be miserable; it doesn't make things right to keep on grieving over them. It clouds the sun, that's all.

Silly people are often cruel," said Adam. "You know that yourself. People with no imagination are cruel because they don't realise what other people are suffering.

Can't we have jam?" "Not today," said Sal. "You can have jam yesterday and tomorrow," said Tilly solemnly