Dodie Smith Quotes - Page 2

It is rather exciting to write by moonlight.

Everything in the least connected with him has value for me; if someone even mentions his name it is like a little present to me-and I long to mention it myself

Truthfulness so often goes with ruthlessness.

Oh, it is wonderful to wake up in the morning with things to look forward to!

It's a beautiful sight to see good dancers doing simple steps. It's a painful sight to see beginners doing complicated patterns.

Thinking of death--strange, beautiful, terrible and a long way off--made me feel happier than ever.

Why is summer mist romantic and autumn mist just sad?

Perhaps if I make myself write I shall find out what is wrong with me.

I am a restlessness inside a stillness inside a restlessness.

But some characters in books are really real--Jane Austen's are; and I know those five Bennets at the opening of Pride and Prejudice, simply waiting to raven the young men at Netherfield Park, are not giving one thought to the real facts of marriage.

a loss of sensibility follows a loss of innocence, at once a penalty and a compensation.

Wakings are the worst times--almost before my eyes are open a great weight seems to roll on my heart.

Cruel blows of fate call for extreme kindness in the family circle.

It's odd how different a house feels when one is alone in it. It makes it easier to think rather private thoughts.

The one Bach piece I learnt made me feel I was being repeatedly hit on the head with a teaspoon.

My hand is very tired but I want to go on writing. I keep resting and thinking. All day I have been two people - the me imprisoned in yesterday and the me out here on the mound; and now there is a third me trying to get in - the me in what is going to happen next.

I wanted to know more about the young ... strange that though they laughed so loud, they so seldom smiled. Perhaps laughter was involuntary whereas smiling was part of an attitude to life.

I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.

They call them the haunted shores, these stretches of Devonshire and Cornwall and Ireland which rear up against the westward ocean. Mists gather here, and sea fog, and eerie stories. That's not because there are more ghosts here than in other places, mind you. It's just that people who live hereabouts are strangely aware of them.

Though he had very little Latin beyond "Cave canem," he had, as a young dog, devoured Shakespeare (in a tasty leather binding).

Certain unique books seem to be without forerunners or successors as far as their authors are concerned. Even though they may profoundly influence the work of other writers, for their creator they're complete, not leading anywhere.

extreme happiness invites religion almost as much as extreme misery.

I believe it is customary to get one's washing over first in baths and bask afterwards; personally, I bask first. I have discovered that the first few minutes are the best and not to be wasted-- my brain always seethes with ideas and life suddenly looks much better than did.

Walking down Belmotte was the oddest sensation-- every step took us deeper into the mist until at last it closed over our heads. It was like being drowned in the ghost of water.

And no bathroom on earth will make up for marrying a bearded man you hate.