A man who lives with nature is used to violence and is companionable with death. There is more violence in an English hedgerow than in the meanest streets of a great city.

Metaphysical speculation is about as pointless as a discussion on the meaning of one's lungs. They're for breathing.

"God gives every bird his worm, but He does not throw it into the nest."

It was not . . . that she was unaware of the frayed and ragged edges of life. She would merely iron them out with a firm hand and neatly hem them down.

"Jealousy, he thought, was as physical as fear; the same dryness of the mouth, the thudding heart, the restlessness which destroyed appetite and peace."