I don't want to get landed in an affair which might get beyond my control before I knew where I was. [...] But darling, Virginia is not the sort of p… - Vita Sackville-West

According to his lights, he gave you all you could desire. He merely killed you, that's all. Men do kill women. Most women enjoy being killed; so I am told. Being a woman, I daresay that even you took a certain pleasure in the process.

She wondered which wounds went deeper: the jagged wounds of reality, or the profound invisible bruises of the imagination?

"One cannot, I find, talk to a knitter. Conversation may seem to be going in that greased, easy way essential to all good conversation; starting hares too lavishly to follow them up; allowing pauses for rumination; bursts for sudden eagerness; digressions, returns, new departures, discoveries of rooted creeds or new ideas — sooner or later the challenge is bound to come: "Don't you agree?" or "What do you think?" "Yes?" says the knitter, startled but polite, "seventy-five, seventy-six — just a moment till I get to the end of my row — seventy-seven, seventy-eight — yes," she says, looking up brightly, "it's all right now. What were you saying?" But of course one has forgotten or no longer cares."