They are great big men who look so fine on horseback, as people must have done, I think, in the days of the great wars.

Say what you like against them--they are animal, they are unintellectual; they don't read themselves, and they don't want others to read, but they are some of the finest and the kindest human beings on the face of the earth! You would be surprised at some of the stories I could tell.

You have never guessed, perhaps, at all the romances that go on in the heart of the country.

There are the people, I feel, among whom Shakespeare will be born if he is ever born again.

In those old houses, up among the Downs--" "My Aunt," Hirst interrupted, "spends her life in East Lambeth among the degraded poor.