“It is strange how in moments of great crisis the mind whips back to childhood.” — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share Image
She had to live in this bright, red gabled house with the nurse until it was time for her to die... I… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share Image
“Do you know so little about children, Monsieur Jean,' she asked, 'that you imagine, because they don't cry, therefore they feel nothing?… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share Image
I felt rather exhausted, and wondered, rather shocked at my callous thought, why old people were sometimes such a strain. Worse than… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share Image
Men are simpler than you imagine my sweet child. But what goes on in the twisted, tortuous minds of women would baffle… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share Image
“...I will shed no more tears, like a spoilt child. For whatever happens we have had what we have had. No one… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share Image
“There's a home for you here at North Hill, you know that, and my wife joins me in begging you to stay.… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share Image
“An armchair is always an armchair, to the modern child, never a ship, never a desert island. The pattern on the wall… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share Image
“The children left him and ran. A pathway led up through the close sapling oaks, and almost at the top of the… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share Image
“The children had had an argument once about whether there was more grass in the world or more sand, and Roger said… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share Image
“He leaned over the rail and stared down into the Pool with interest. It was certainly not much of a place, the… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share Image
“I thought how little we know about the feelings of old people. Children we understand, their fears and hopes and make-believe. I… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share Image
“The child destined to be a writer is vulnerable to every wind that blows. Now warm, now chill, next joyous, then despairing,… — Daphne Du Maurier Copy Share Image
He lacked tenderness; he was rude; and he had more than a streak of cruelty in him; he was a thief and a liar.… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share
“You understand now... how simple life becomes when things like mirrors are forgotten.” — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share
I could fight with the living but I could not fight the dead. If there was some woman in London that Maxim loved, someone… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share
“The only time I got into trouble was when I forged M's signature on the weekly report we had to take home every Friday… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share
“They are not brave, the days when we are twenty-one. They are full of little cowardices, little fears without foundation, and one is so… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share
“We all of us have our particular devil who ruses us and torments us, and we must give battle in the end.” — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share
“There have been men in arid deserts where the sun has so disfigured them that they have become things of horror – parched and… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share
“Packing up. The nagging worry of departure. When shutting drawers and flinging wide an hotel wardrobe, or the impersonal shelves of a furnished villa,… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share
“And perhaps one day, in after years, someone would wander there and listen to the silence, as she had done, and catch the whisper… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share
“You thought I was mad. Perhaps I was. Perhaps I am. It doesn't make for sanity, does it, living with the devil.” — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share
“many impressions to seize and hold, familiar loved façades, balconies, windows, water lapping the cellar steps of decaying palaces, the little red house where… — Daphne du Maurier Copy Share
