How does it feel to be seventy? they had asked him. Not too bad, he had replied. When you consider the alternative.

Gold chains were slung about her neck, and with her hair newly dressed and a bit of scent sprayed about her person, she felt quite festive

When I sold Oakley Street, I had plans to return to Cornwall. To buy a little granite cottage with a palm tree in the garden. But my children intervened and talked me out of it and finally my son-in-law found Podmore’s Thatch, and so, after all, I shall spend the twilight of my years in Gloucestershire, and not within sight and sound of the sea.”

As long as Mumma was alive, she knew that some small part of herself had remained a child, cherished and adored. Perhaps you never completely grew up until your mother died.

“My mother always told me never to accept an open-ended invitation. There must always be a date of arrival, she said, and a date of departure.”

He stooped to kiss her. His height was one of her pleasures, because it made her feel vulnerable and helpless.

Happiness is making the most of what you have, and riches is making the most of what you’ve got.

She longed for the light. It came at last. She watched it come and was calmed. She dozed once more, then opened her eyes. Saw the first low shafts of sunlight, a pale sky clear of cloud; she heard the birds, calling and answering. And then the thrush from the chestnut tree. The night was, thankfully, over. At seven, unrested, more strangely tired

Olivia hesitated, hating herself for hesitating, but only too aware that every instinct in her being was reacting violently against the thought of any person, even Antonia, invading the precious privacy of her house and her life.