[W]e are almost always in one place with our minds somewhere quite other.” — Ford Madox Ford, Critical Essays of Ford Madox Ford - Ford Madox Ford

[W]e are almost always in one place with our minds somewhere quite other.

Edward ought, I suppose, to have gone to the Transvaal. It would have done him a great deal of good to get killed.

And she knew too: she had always known under her mind and now she confessed it; her agony had been, half of it, because one day he would say farewell to her, like that, with the inflexion of a verb. As, just occasionally, using the word 'we' - and perhaps without intention - he had let her know that he loved her.

No, by God, it is false! It wasn't a minuet that we stepped; it was a prison - a prison full of screaming hysterics, tied down so that they might not outsound the rolling of our carriage wheels as we went along the shaded avenues of the Taunus Wald.