"Mrs. Dalloway said she would by the flowers herself."
Oh, Mrs Dalloway, Virginia Woolf, Michael Cunningham, The Hours. This book is a gift, and the fact that from this book came another great book, The Hours by Michael Cunningham, and just when you would think it could not get any better, since books made into movies are almost always a disaster, this glorious book about a book was turned into a most glorious movie about a book, about a book, and one of my favorites-- total perfection. This is another book that I filled with lines, so it was hard to choose just one. This was my pick:
The compensation of growing old, Peter Walsh thought, coming out of Regent's Park, and holding his hat in hand, was simply this; that the passions remain as strong as ever, but one has gained--at last!--the power which adds the supreme flavour to existence--the power of taking hold of experience, of turning it round, slowly, in the light.
A terrible confession it was (he put his hat on again), at the age of fifty-three, one scarcely needed people any more. Life itself, every moment of it, every drop of it, here, this instant, now, in the sun, in Regent's Park, was enough. Too much, indeed. A whole lifetime was too short to bring out, now that one had acquired the power, the full flavour; to extract every ounce of pleasure, every shade of meaning; which both were so much more solid than they used to be, so much less personal. It was impossible that he should ever suffer again as Clarissa had made him suffer. p. 87
*image from here