During those last weeks of the Bishop's life he thought very little about death; it was the Past he was leaving. The future would take care of itself.

I shall do nothing to discourage my patient$$$ Monseigneur$$$ any more than I shall bleed him$$$ as many good people urge me to do. The mind$$$ too$$$ has a kind of blood; in common speech we call it hope.

What unprotected faces they were; their very roughness and violence made them defenseless. These boys had no practiced manner behind which they could retreat and hold people at a distance.

I had the sense of coming home to myself$$$ and of having found out what a little circle mans experience is.

As far as we could see$$$ the miles of copper red grass were drenched in sunlight that was stronger and fiercer than at any other time of day

All Southern women wished of their menfolk was simply to be 'like Paris handsome and like Hector brave'.

It must have been the scarcity of detail in that tawny landscape that made detail so precious.

The spark in his eye$$$ which is one's very self$$$ caught the spark in her's that was herself$$$ and for a moment they looked into each other's natures.

The glorious transmutation of autumn had come on: all the vast Canadian shores were clothed with a splendour never seen in France; to which all the pageants of all the kings were as a taper to the sun.

Avarice$$$ he assured them$$$ was the one passion that grew stronger and sweeter in old age.