Katherine Mansfield Quotes
Top 100 wise famous quotes and sayings by Katherine Mansfield
Katherine Mansfield Famous Quotes & Sayings
Discover top inspirational quotes from Katherine Mansfield on Wise Famous Quotes.
Roses are the only flowers at garden-parties; the only flowers that everybody is certain of knowing.
Ma Parker stood, looking up and down. The icy wind blew out her apron into a balloon. And now it began to rain. There was nowhere.
Sleeping was her latest discovery. 'It's so wonderful. One simply shuts one's eyes, that's all. It's so delicious.
Wind moving through grass so that the grass quivers. This moves me with an emotion I don't even understand.
I always felt that the great high privilege, relief and comfort of friendship, was that one had to explain nothing
Got a little - well - feeble as you might say. Of course, she was never dangerous; she was the sweetest old lady.
Jose loved giving orders to the servants, and they loved obeying her. She always made them feel they were taking part in some drama.
Bless you, my darling, and remember you are always in the heart - oh tucked so close there is no chance of escape - of your sister.
Oh, with you, I could conquer the world - oh, with you I could catch hold of the moon like a little silver sixpence.
I want, by understanding myself, to understand others. I want to be all that I am capable of becoming.
The heavens opened for the sunset to-night. When I had thought the day folded and sealed, came a burst of heavenly bright petals.
Everything in life that we really accept undergoes a change. So suffering must become Love. That is the mystery.
I'd always rather be with people who loved me too little rather than with people who loved me too much.
Why it should be such an effort to write to the people one loves I can't imagine. It's none at all to write to those who don't really count.
Oh,' said the little girl, 'my head's on your heart; I can hear it going. What a big heart you've got, father dear.
I imagine I was always writing. Twaddle it was, too. But better far write twaddle or anything, anything, than nothing at all.
There are always these moments in life when the limits of suffering are reached and we become heroes and heroines.
The English language is damned difficult, but it's also damned rich, and so clear and bright that you can search out the darkest places with it.
Everything about her was sweet, pale like honey. You would not have been surprised to see a bee caught in the tangles of that yellow hair.
The mater, with her scissors outspread to snap the head of a dead something or other, stopped at the sight of Reggie.
I am poor - obscure - just eighteen years of age - with a rapacious appetite for everything and principles as light as my purse.
Courage is like a disobedient dog, once it starts running away it flies all the faster for your attempts to recall it.
The lights, the azaleas, the dresses, the pink faces, the velvet chairs, all became one beautiful flying wheel.
How idiotic civilization is! Why be given a body if you have to keep it shut up in a case like a rare, rare fiddle?
Oh dear, I sometimes think ... whatever should I do if anything were to ... But, there, thinking's no good to any one - is it, madam?
Perhaps it does not matter so very much what it is one loves in this world. But love something one must.
What did garden-parties and baskets and lace frocks matter to him? He was far from all those things. He was wonderful, beautiful.
Letters are the real curse of my existence. I hate to write them: I have to. If I don't, there they are - the great guilty gates barring my way.
Ah, what happiness it is to be with people who are all happy, to press hands, press cheeks, smile into eyes.
Would you not like to try all sorts of lives - one is so very small - but that is the satisfaction of writing - one can impersonate so many people.
Whenever I prepare for a journey I prepare as though for death. Should I never return, all is in order.
Light as feathers the witches fly,
The horn of the moon is plain to see;
By a firefly under a jonquil flower
A goblin toasts a bumble-bee.
The horn of the moon is plain to see;
By a firefly under a jonquil flower
A goblin toasts a bumble-bee.
I think I hate snow, downright hate it. There is something stupefying in it, a kind of 'You must be worse before you're better,' and down it spins.
... A wet night. They are going home together under an umbrella. They stop on the door to press their wet cheeks together.
Care no more for the opinions of others, for those voices. Do the hardest thing on earth for you. Act for yourself. Face the truth.
It is strange that there are times when I feel the stars are not at all solemn: they are secretly gay.
his hands clasped over a huge carved walking-stick, and a big old woman, sitting upright, with a roll of knitting on her embroidered
No, madam, never now. Of course, I did think of it at one time. But it wasn't to be. He had a little flower-shop just down
EM Forster never gets any further than warming the tea pot ... Is it not beautifully warm? Yes, but there ain't going to be no tea.
I don't believe other people are ever as foolishly excited as I am while I'm working. How could they be? Writers would have to live in trees.