Diary Of A Provincial Lady Quotes

She is never alone when she has Her Books. Books, to her, are Friends. Give her Shakespeare or Jane Austen, Meredith or Hardy, and she is Lost - lost in a world of her own. She sleeps so little that most of her nights are spent reading.

This suggests Query: Does Robert, perhaps, take in what I say even when he makes no reply?

(Query: Is it possible to cultivate the art of conversation when living in the country all the year round?)

(Note: Extreme sensibility of the French sometimes makes them difficult to deal with.)

(Query: Are modern children going to revolt against being modern, and if so, what form will reaction of modern parents take?)

(Query here becomes unavoidable: Does not a misplaced optimism exist, common to all mankind, leading on to false conviction that social engagements, if dated sufficiently far ahead, will never really materialise?)

Am asked what I think of Harriet Hume but am unable to say, as I have not read it. Have a depressed feeling that this is going to be another case of Orlando about which was perfectly able to talk most intelligently until I read it, and found myself unfortunately unable to understand any of it.

Mucho antes de que estuviéramos a medio camino, y sabedora de que nunca llegaría a la roca, ya confiaba en que la segunda esposa de Robert fuera buena con los niños. La vizcondesa, que nadaba tranquilamente, me preguntó si estaba bien. "Oh, sí", contesté, y acto seguido me hundí. (Duda: ¿Castigo divino?)

Could not interesting little experiment be tried, by possessor of unusual amount of moral courage, in the shape of suddenly producing perfectly brand new opinions: for example, to the effect that Americans have better manners than we have, or that their divorce laws are a great improvement over our own? Should much like to see the effect of these, or similar, psychological bombs, but should definitely wish Robert to be absent from the scene. Announcement of tea breaks off these intelligent speculations and I am struck, as usual, by the infinite superiority of other people's food to my own.

Realise that this mis-statement should be corrected at once, but omit to do so, and later find myself involved in entirely unintentional web of falsehood. Should like to work out how far morally to blame for this state of things, but have not time.

Query: Is not a common hate one of the strongest links in human nature? Answer, most regrettably, in the affirmative.

Query: Does incessant pressure of domestic cares vitiate capacity for human sympathy? Fear that it does, but find myself unable to attempt reformation in this direction at present.

to live as I do, without any distractions, only leads to madness in the end. Feel that she could hardly have worded this more trenchantly, and am a good deal impressed.

indulge in cynical reflections about extremely poor reward afforded in this life to attempted acts of good-nature.

(Query here suggests itself: Is not silence frequently more efficacious than the utmost eloquence? Answer probably yes. Must try to remember this more often than I do.)

January 4th.—A beautiful day, very mild, makes me feel that with any reasonable luck Mrs. Somers will be out, and I therefore call at the Grange.

Caigo en la cuenta, y no por primera vez, de que como mejor pueden cumplir las mujeres inteligentes sus obligaciones para con su propio sexo es quizá mediante el devastador proceso de contarles la verdad sobre sí mismas. Al mismo tiempo, no acaba de parecerme que yo fuera a disfrutar oyéndola.

Duda que se plantea por sí sola: ¿No es a menudo el silencio más eficaz que la elocuencia extrema? Respuesta afirmativa, probablemente. Debo intentar recordarlo más a menudo.

He reparado a menudo en una curiosa falsa creencia muy extendida entre los hombres, la de que nunca, bajo ningún concepto, deben mostrarse amables y comprensivos cuando se trata de los pequeños disgustos y contratiempos que nos depara la vida.

Una diferencia pronunciada entre los dos sexos es la tendencia masculina a postergar prácticamente todo con la excepción de sentarse a comer e irse a la cama.

He de plantearme aquí una duda inevitable: ¿No peca acaso todo el género humano de un optimismo erróneo que lleva al falso convencimiento de que los compromisos sociales, si quedan lo suficientemente lejos en el tiempo, nunca se materializarán?

Recordatorio: La forma más adecuada de atender a un huésped es darle de comer.

En la vida cotidiana, decir la verdad resulta extraordinariamente difícil. ¿Es solo mía esta idiosincrasia tan deplorable o hay otros que también la padecen?

Should prefer to be the kind of person who is inseparable from volume of Keats, or even Jane Austen, but cannot compass this.

Am perfectly aware that passport is in my small purple dressing-case, where I put it a week ago, and have looked at it two or three times every day ever since—last time just before leaving my room forty-five minutes ago. Am nevertheless mysteriously impelled to open hand-bag, take out key, unlock small purple dressing-case, and verify presence of passport all over again.

Vicissitudes of travel very strange, and am struck—as often—by enormous dissimilarity between journeys undertaken in real life, and as reported in fiction.

(Query unavoidably suggests itself here: Does Mademoiselle really expect me to believe her, and if so, what can be her opinion of my mental capacity?)

Have very often wondered if Mothers are not rather A Mistake altogether, and now definitely come to the conclusion that they are.

(Query: Cannot many of our moral lapses from Truth be frequently charged upon the tactless persistence of others?)

(Query here suggests itself, as often before: Is it utterly impossible to combine the amenities of civilisation with even the minimum of honesty required to satisfy the voice of conscience? Answer still in abeyance at present.)

Have a depressed feeling that this is going to be another case of Orlando about which was perfectly able to talk most intelligently until I read it, and found myself unfortunately unable to understand any of it.

I am moved to exclaim - perhaps rather thoughtlessly - that the most wonderful thing in the world must be to be a childless widow.

. . . as she always thinks Robert such a safe, respectable husband for any woman. Give her briefly to understand that Robert is in reality a compound of Don Juan, the Marquis de Sade, and Dr. Crippen, but that we do not care to let it be known locally.

Remember Spartan theory many times met with both

Candid and intelligent self-examination as to motive, etc., often leads to very distressing revelations.)

No, says Mrs. Walker thoughtfully, she doesn't really think that Aunt E. and I would ever get on together very well. Am quite surprised and hurt at this, and realise that, though I am quite prepared to dislike Aunt Eleanor, I find it both unjust and astonishing that she should be equally repelled by me.

Country Things’ by Alison Utley, ‘The Diary of a Provincial Lady’ by E. M. Delafield, ‘Winnie the Pooh’ by A. A. Milne, an anthology of modern verse, and one of Basil Bradley’s novels bearing a reclining Regency beauty on its dust jacket.