The evening advanced. The shadows lengthened. The waters of the lake grew pitchy black. The gliding of the ghostly swans became rare and more rare. — Wilkie Collins Copy Share Image
“There is nothing serious in mortality! Solomon in all his glory was Solomon with the elements of the contemptible lurking in every fold of… — Wilkie Collins Copy Share Image
“Let Lady Glyde's maid come in, Louis. Stop! Do her shoes creak?" I was obliged to ask the question. Creaking shoes invariably upset me… — Wilkie Collins Copy Share Image
Let the music speak to us of tonight, in a happier language than our own. — Wilkie Collins Copy Share Image
The woman who first gives life, light, and form to our shadowy conceptions of beauty, fills a void in our spiritual nature that has… — Wilkie Collins Copy Share Image
“I dread the beginning of her new life more than words can tell, but I see some hope for her if she travels -… — Wilkie Collins Copy Share Image
“It is quite possible that I may be altogether wrong in this idea. My own impression, however, is, that I am right.” — Wilkie Collins Copy Share Image
I sadly want a reform in the construction of children. Nature's only idea seems to be to make them machines for the production of… — Wilkie Collins Copy Share Image
Habits of literary composition are perfectly familiar to me. One of the rarest of all the intellectual accomplishments that a man can possess is… — Wilkie Collins Copy Share Image
“He has that quiet deference, that look of pleased, attentive interest, in listening to a woman, which, say what we may, we can none… — Wilkie Collins Copy Share Image
