1
" She saw beauty in ordinary little things and took pleasure in it (and this was just as well because she had had very little pleasure in her life). She took pleasure in a well-made cake, a smoothly ironed napkin, a pretty blouse, laundered and pressed; she liked to see the garden well dug, the rich soil brown and gravid; she loved her flowers. When you are young you are too busy with yourself... you haven't time for ordinary little things but, when you leave youth behind, your eyes open and you see magic and mystery all around you: magic in the flight of a bird, the shape of a leaf, the bold arch of a bridge against the sky, footsteps at night and a voice calling in the darkness, the moment in a theatre before the curtain rises, the wind in the trees, or (in winter) an apple-branch clothed with pure white snow and icicles hanging from from a stone and sparkling with rainbow colours. "
― D.E. Stevenson , Vittoria Cottage (Dering Family, #1)
6
" Being honest with oneself is often a startling experience, and as Robert walked back to the Cock and Bull he tried to be completely honest with himself and was considerably startled at the result. He discovered that he had ceased to yearn for Wanda; he still grieved for her, of course, but the grief he felt was for her untimely death and not for his own loss. He had passed on from that part of his life and left it behind him. Life is transitory, thought Robert as he strolled along in the dark. Nothing in this world is permanent — neither sorrow nor joy — and only a foolish person would ask for permanence. We don’t stand still, thought Robert. We are travellers upon the path of life. No traveller can bathe twice in the same stream. He bathes and goes on his way and, if the road is dusty and hot, he may look back longingly and think of the clear cool water with regret … but presently he may come upon another stream, different of course, but equally delightful to bathe in. "
― D.E. Stevenson , Vittoria Cottage (Dering Family, #1)
8
" It was not until now, when she saw that she had lost Robert, that Caroline discovered how much he meant to her … she looked back and tried to determine exactly when her friendship for him had grown into love. It was a useless occupation, of course, and quite fruitless, for now it seemed to Caroline that she had always loved him. Perhaps the seed had been sown all those years ago at Elsinore and had lain dormant in her heart. She loved him in all sorts of different ways: she admired his character and enjoyed his humour, she felt an immense tenderness towards him and her heart beat faster when he was there. These feelings were so strong that they were difficult to disguise, and it was only by damping herself down that she could bear to be in the same room with him. Fortunately Caroline had learnt the lesson of renunciation; her life had taught her how to withdraw gracefully inside herself and how to bear disappointment and heartache with a smiling face, so instead of brooding upon her troubles she tried to banish them. She set to work and made a cake for the party. It was to be a magnificent cake, large and rich, full of eggs and fruit — an absolute pre-war cake. Comfort stood at her elbow, watching eagerly, helping to beat the mixture, breathing heavily with her exertions and chatting the while. "
― D.E. Stevenson , Vittoria Cottage (Dering Family, #1)
19
" Homes slid past—hundreds of thousands of houses—and each one was a home, a secret place where people slept and ate and quarreled and made up again, where people were happy or miserable (or, even worse than miserable, were hopelessly resigned). Every house had its own peculiar atmosphere, its own peculiar smell, so that although there were dozens of houses, all alike to look at, they were all quite different. "
― D.E. Stevenson , Vittoria Cottage (Dering Family, #1)
