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"Sometimes it hurts." Then a cyclone happened to me. "Did you see the Haldens on the train, Frad?" asked Patricia as she and David were talking aside by the studio window while Elinor was welcoming Tom Hughes and Griffin, Margaret Howes and Mr. Spicer, who had all arrived in a bunch, Tom having lagged behind to get a big sheaf of roses for Elinor, whom he admired immensely. "H'm! You are pleased to be mysterious. Why not tell me your business?".
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Conrad
Judith looked wise. "I know how she feels," she declared, sagely. "I get awfully excited when I write something good. Why, sometimes I cry, I'm so happy about it, and I jump up and down, too, all by myself." Yes, I know God is very tender with a woman, and I think He understands; so, if she crept very close to Him and caught at His sleeve to steady herself, He would be kind to her until she had the courage to go on along her own steep way. Please, God, never let him find out, for it would hurt him to have hurt me! But Jaggard was far from the condition of connected thought or coherent words. He turned and tossed upon his poor bed with bright eyes, burning skin and babbling tongue. His head was swathed in bandages, and the housemaid who watched beside him had frequently to replace the clothes he tossed off in his violent movements. This nurse was a sickly, dark-eyed creature, who was strongly attached to Jaggard; and it was her love for him that made her proffer her services to look after him, and that chained her to his bedside. She reported to her master that Dr. Etwald had been in that morning, and was coming again in the afternoon, but that there was nothing to be done until the delirium had expended itself. "David says they're slushy," pursued Patricia, meditating. "But he's only a boy.".
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