“But I have sometimes thought that a woman's nature is like a great house full of rooms: there is the hall,
through which everyone passes in going in and out; the drawing-room, where one receives formal visits;
the sitting-room, where the members of the family come and go as they list;
but beyond that, far beyond, are other rooms, the handles of whose doors perhaps are never turned;
no one knows the way to them, no one knows whither they lead; and in the innermost room, the holy of holies,
the soul sits alone and waits for a footstep that never comes.”
Edith Wharton
