The English countryside, its growth and its destruction, is a genuine and tragic theme.

They had nothing in common but the English language.

Oh, the English! They are always thinking of tea. They carry it by the kilogram, and they are so clumsy that they always pack it at the top.

Nature pulls one way and human nature another.

I live in the English countryside, so I'm surrounded by magpies.

Dim loneliness came imperceivably into the fields and he turned back. The birds piped oddly; some wind was caressing the higher foliage, turning it all one way, the way home. Telegraph poles ahead looked like half-used pencils; the small cross on the steeple glittered with a sharp and shapely permanence.