“I had an aunt named 'abnormal Shauna' once. But she passed away in an unfortunate cliff-top interpretative dance and fireworks accident.”

“What poor and unfortunate creature had to die for you to wear that?" [pause] My Aunt Trudy, I replied. Walked away ladies and gentlemen, walked away!”

“She danced the dance so well, so well indeed, so perfectly, that Anisya Fyodorovna, who handed her at once the kerchief she needed in the dance, had tears in her eyes, though she laughed as she watched that slender and graceful little countess, reared in silk and velvet, belonging to another world than hers, who was yet able to understand all that was in Anisya and her father and her mother and her aunt and every Russian soul.”

“we had allowed our eyes to meet only once- by accident as much as out of necessity- and not ten seconds had passed before the agony had become too great to bear and we had retreated into silence and coldness once more.”

“I had no name for that particular hue of orange, other than unfortunate.”

“Swithin! And the fellow had gone and died, last November, at the age of seventy-nine, renewing the doubt whether Forsytes could live for ever, which had first arisen when Aunt Ann passed away.”