All the friends in the world are in the fountain of a pen.

The captain’s eyes betrayed what his countenance must conceal: the anguish of an ancient being who must honour his birthright by living beyond those whom he would have given much to keep.

The unconscious fabric of human destiny had done with her, unraveling all her grievances and reweaving them as joyous circumstance.

There is a very great difference between older and old, the former being desirable and the latter being inevitable.

Astonishing how tea opens the ears.

The passion of steeped leaves and stewed broth is a philter that triumphs in our veins. It is our heritage, it is our religion, it is the glory of our being. It is our honour...