Quotes from Small House at Allington
- You are my bird that I have shot with my own gun; and the assurance of my success is sufficient for my happiness. [Lily to Crosbie]
- As she herself had said, he was her bird, the spoil of her own gun, the product of such capacity as she had in her, on which she was to live, and, if possible, to thrive during the remainder of her life.
- He who was now everything to her might die; nay, it was possible that he might be other than she thought him to be; that he might neglect her, desert her, or misuse her.
- But she had resolved to trust in everything, and, having so trusted, she would not provide for herself any possibility of retreat.
- The little sacrifices of society are all made by women, as are also the great sacrifices of life.
- A man who is good for anything is always ready for his duty, and so is a good woman always ready for a sacrifice.
- It is, however, no doubt, true that thought will not at once produce wisdom.
- It may almost be a question whether such wisdom as many of us have in our mature years has not come from the dying out of the power of temptation, rather than as the results of thought and resolution.
- Last days are wretched days; and so are last moments wretched moments. It is not the fact that the parting is coming which makes these days and moments so wretched, but the feeling that something special is expected from them, which something they always fail to produce.
- When last days are coming, they should be allowed to come and to glide away without special notice or mention. And as for last moments, there should be none such.
- I have almost more to think of than I know how to manage.
- But listen to me. I should not die if you left me, — not be utterly broken-hearted. Nothing on earth can I ever love as I have loved you. But I have a God and a Saviour that will be enough for me. I can turn to them with content, if it be well that you should leave me. I have gone to them, and— [Lily to Adolphus Crosbie]
- “And who is the old gentleman who chanted the Litany?” he asked the verger afterwards, as he allowed himself to be shown round the monuments of the cathedral. “That’s our precentor, sir, Mr Harding. You must have heard of Mr Harding.” But Crosbie, with a full apology, confessed his ignorance. “Well, sir; he’s pretty well known too, tho’ he is so shy like. He’s father-in-law to our dean, sir; and father-in-law to Archdeacon Grantly also.” “His daughters have all gone into the profession, then?” “And who is his granddaughter?” “Why Lady Dumbello, as will be the Marchioness of Hartletop.”
- "Why don't I remember you then, Aunty? Was I too young?" asked Demi. "Rather, dear."
- "I suppose my memory hadn't come then. Grandpa says that different parts of the mind unfold as we grow up, and the memory part of my mind hadn't unfolded when you were little, so I can't remember how you looked," explained Demi.
© 2018 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews