"Dodie Smith"の名言

There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.

Noble deeds and hot baths are the best cures for depression.

I have found that sitting in a place where you have never sat before can be inspiring.

Perhaps watching someone you love suffer can teach you even more than suffering yourself can.

I only want to write. And there's no college for that except life.

I suddenly knew that religion, God - something beyond everyday life - was there to be found, provided one is really willing. And I saw that though what I felt in the church was only imagination, it was a step on the way; because imagination itself can be a kind of willingness - a pretense that things are real, due to one's longing for them. It struck me that this was somehow tied up with what the Vicar said about religion being an extension of art - and then I had a glimpse of how religion can really cure you of sorrow; somehow make use of it, turn it to beauty, just as art can make sad things beautiful. I found myself saying: 'Sacrifice is the secret - you have to sacrifice things for art and it's the same with religion; and then the sacrifice turns out to be a gain.' Then I got confused and I couldn't hold on to what I meant - until Miss Blossom remarked: 'Nonsense, duckie - it's prefectly simple. You lose yourself in something beyond yourself and it's a lovely rest.' I saw that, all right. Then I thought: 'But that's how Miss Marcy cured her sorrow, too - only she lost herself in other people instead of in religion.' Which way of life was best - hers or the Vicar's? I decided that he loves God and merely likes the villagers, whereas she loves the villagers and merely likes God - and then I suddenly wondered if I could combine both ways, love God and my neighbor equally. Was I really willing to?

Truthfulness so often goes with ruthlessness.

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

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

I think it [religion] is an art, the greatest one; an extension of the communion all the other arts attempt.

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.

The family, that dear octopus from whose tentacles we never quite escape, nor in our innermost hearts never quite wish to.

There is something revolting about the way girls' minds often jump to marriage long before they jump to love. And most of those minds are shut to what marriage really means.