Experience isnt interesting until it begins to repeat itself. In fact, till it does that, it hardly is experience. – Elizabeth Bowen
There is no end to the violations committed by children on children, quietly talking alone. – Elizabeth Bowen
Autumn arrives in early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day. – Elizabeth Bowen
Only in a house where one has learnt to be lonely does one have this solicitude for things. Ones relation to them, the daily seeing or touching, begins to become love, and to lay one open to pain. – Elizabeth Bowen