The family - that dear octopus from whose tentacles we never quite escape, nor, in our inmost hearts, ever quite wish to.
It came to me that Hyde Park has never belonged to London - that it has always been , in spirit, a stretch of countryside; and that it links the Londons of all periods together most magically - by remaining forever unchanged at the heart of a ever-changing town.
Even a broken heart doesn't warrant a waste of good paper.
Only half a page left now. Shall I fill it with 'I love you, I love you'-- like father's page of cats on the mat? No. Even a broken heart doesn't warrant a waste of good paper.
Wakings are the worst times--almost before my eyes are open a great weight seems to roll on my heart.
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