“The strange thing on looking back was the purity, the integrity of her feeling for Sally. It was not like one's feeling for a man.”

“Love is not a thing to undrstand or to explain... . Its a feeling.. .....just feel the purity and the beauty of it.. You will find the world and the true meaning itself in it... .”

“It is a strange experience for a man of pride and feeling to know that his interests are in the control of strangers who don’t like or understand him.”

“Well…there’s only one glove. Right away, I wonder, where’s the other glove? How did it become separated from its mate? Does it feel lost and confused without its other half? It looks lonely. Cold. Like an outsider that has no one to turn to, nowhere to go. And the stark contrast of the white snow against the bright colors of the glove makes the lines crisp and clear. It makes that feeling of alienated loneliness crisp and clear. The purity of the snow gives the purity of the glove’s solitude a stronger effect.”

“It feels strange to be ignored in general, but when someone who was once an integral part of your life fades away, what are you left with? Sadness? Disallusionment? Hope? Surreal...”

“The young man had killed himself; but she did not pity him; with the clock striking the hour, one, two, three, she did not pity him, with all this going on. There! the old lady had put out her light! The whole house was dark now with this going on, she repeated, and the words came to her, Fear no more the heat of the sun. She must go back to them. But what an extraordinary night! She felt somehow very like him—the young man who had killed himself. She felt glad that he had done it; thrown it away. The clock was striking. The leaden circles dissolved in the air. He made her feel the beauty; made her feel the fun. But she must go back. She must assemble. She must find Sally and Peter. And she came in from the little room.”