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1 " The same word passed through three minds, simultaneously, philosophical, fatalistic, the eternal refuge of the Italian: Pazienza.... "
― Violet Trefusis , Pirates at Play
2 " Nothing and no one in the world could kill the love I have for you. I have surrendered my whole individuality, the very essence of my being to you. I have given you my body time after time to treat as you pleased. All the hoardings of my imagination I have laid bare to you. There isn't a recess in my brain into which you haven't penetrated. I have clung to you and caressed you and slept with you and I would like to tell the whole world that I clamour for you. You are my lover and I am your mistress, and kingdoms and empires and governments have tottered and succumbed before now to that mighty combination-- the most powerful in the world. "
― Violet Trefusis
3 " Across my life only one word will be written: "waste" - waste of life, waste of talent, waste of enterprise. "
4 " Do you think that love has to be requited to be genuine? On the contrary, it thrives on indifference. "
5 " He loved the interminable winter nights, when the dissatisfied wind mewed through the keyhole, and gusts of acrid smoke were driven down through the chimney; the imperfect silence when you awoke, as of a conversation hastily lulled, objects being hastily replaced. ‘Blow, blow thou winter wind, thou art not so unkind as man’s ingratitude.’ Why was it that he felt so perfectly attuned to winter, to its fatalistic expectation of the worst, then, when the worst came, its rustic heroisms and shouldering of burdens, improvised ingeniousness, constructive despair? "
6 " His neglected heart, forsaken, isolated, was more lonely than the ace of hearts in the middle of a playing card. "
7 " I love you with all my bruised heart. "
8 " I love you, because I have seen your soul. "
9 " The following evening John left with Lady Shorne for the south of France, without so much as a word to me."Alexa felt as if she were hearing that fateful cliche for the first time. "Without so much as a word." No matter how much she tried to see it from every point of view, its meaning was always clear. John was a coward. Anne was his victim. The roles were the opposite of what she had supposed. It was Anne who had been heroic, not John. John was a coward, a mere puppet into whom both Anne and Alexa had managed to breathe a semblance of life. He was as much the creation of one as of the other. "
― Violet Trefusis , Broderie Anglaise
10 " Across my life only one work will be written: "waste" _ waste of love, waste of talent, waste of enterprise. "
