P.136 Journeys end in lovers meeting; I have spent an all but sleepless
night, I have told lies and made a fool of myself, and the very air tastes
like wine. I have been frightened half out of my foolish wits, but I have
somehow earned this joy; I have been waiting for it for so long.
Abandoning a lifelong belief that to name happiness is to dissipate it,
she smiled at herself in the mirror and told herself silently, You are
happy, Eleanor, you have finally been given a part of your measure of
happiness.
P.164 I am learning the pathways of the heart, Eleanor thought quite
seriously, and then wondered what she could have meant by thinking any
such thing.
P.179 Around her the trees and wild flowers, with that oddly courteous air
of natural things suddenly interrupted in their pressing occupations of
growing and dying, turned towards her with attention, as though, dull and
imperceptive as she was, it was still necessary for them to be gentle to a
creation so unfortunate as not to be rooted in the ground, forced to go
from one place to another, heartbreakingly mobile.