We hope the example of Daphne's family will encourage you to post on this webpage your favourite lines other than the universally well-loved opening to Rebecca. Perhaps you'll be inspired to re-read her books and discover other lines with a special meaning for you.

Virago Press has published almost thirty of Daphne's books in paperback with a delightful hardback edition of Vanishing Cornwall. These have introductions by established authors, some of whom have presented at our Festival and submitted their own favourite lines below.

If you have already REGISTERED as a Member, please use the SUBMIT form to send your favourite lines to us, where they will be reviewed by Ann Willmore.

"Your Favourite Lines" is based on an original idea by Collin Langley.

Jane Dunn
Myself When Young

I arrived home in time for D's and M's silver wedding, and there was something strangely touching about the occasion, because of the gifts they gave each other. M had gone to so much trouble to have her portrait painted, and the sad thing was that, as she uncovered it, we could see from D's face he didn't care for it at all. It was not even a good likeness. Eager to produce his own present, he unwrapped a bracelet to put on her wrist. It was too small. "Oh dear, it was so pathetic. And yet slightly absurd and somehow perfect at the same time," says the diary, and when we three sisters had presented our parents with a huge potted azalea we all went off to a family celebration lunch at the Savoy.
Myself When Young, Ch.5, Between Two Worlds, p.134/5, Virago (2004).

My favourite du Maurier lines have to be when Daphne reveals her deep love for Cornwall or an ancient sleeping-beauty of a house, both passions I, and many, share. But her unsentimental take on human character time and again pulls me up short with the singularity of her point of view.
This extract is a wonderful sketch of a marriage, so full of pathos and yet unexpectedly funny too. It illustrates so well Daphne's cool detached gaze, even when young, on something as intimate and emotionally fraught as one's parents' misunderstanding of each other. In a few deft, economical lines she suggests the relationship of two narcissists who look to each other for reflections of themselves, yet somehow muddle on in affection and familiarity, glossing over most shortfalls with lunch at the Savoy. With the enormous potted azalea as an added zany extra. Jane Dunn.

Myself When Young was originally published with the title Growing Pains: The Shaping of a Writer. AW.

Helen Taylor
Myself When Young

'All very simple,' I recorded, 'quickly over. And afterwards Mrs Hunkin called me Mrs Browning, which sounded so strange. When we got back to the harbour everyone seemed to know what had happened, and people were waving from houses and cottages. We quickly had breakfast, then loaded stores on to Yggy, and set off for the harbour mouth and the open sea. The Quiller-Couches, in their rowing-boat, hailed us and presented a bottle of their home-brewed sloe gin. Then we were away, heading down-channel for the Helford River and Frenchman's Creek. We couldn't have chosen anything more beautiful.' Myself When Young, Ch.6, Apprenticeship, p.195, Virago (2004).

In 1977, Daphne published her intriguing and enigmatic memoir, Myself When Young, which - uncharacteristically for her - concludes rather romantically. Given her avowedly deeply sceptical approach to romance of all kinds, this closure deserves attention. It records her wedding day, 19 July 1932, and thus concludes her autobiographical account on that most conventionally promising and happy note - marriage.
But this is a marriage described at one remove: Daphne ventures no comment from her 70-year-old widow's consciousness. Instead, she quotes from her 25-year-old's diary, both the night before and the day itself. The night before she claims to be 'doing this with my eyes open', wanting 'a fuller life, greater knowledge, and understanding'. She bids adieu to 'Daphne du Maurier', and says she'll henceforward come to know 'what it was to love a man who was my husband, not a son, not a brother'. The terms of this diary entry are chillingly cerebral and philosophically engaged - though reminding us of the complex familial relations she had already enjoyed with her father and other men - but curiously lacking in emotion and passion, and very obliquely focussed on her future husband, Tommy Browning (not named in the final page).
The diary entry for the day itself describes a sense of relief - that the wedding was simple, brief and designed for a quick getaway. This passage contains the strengths of Daphne du Maurier's writing: narrative clarity, topographical precision, and an ability to select details and small incidents that create atmosphere, emotional ambivalence and complexity. Is the last line a gentle parody of romantic fiction, or a heart-felt expression of emotional release following a public ceremony of the kind she always hated? In view of the problematic and often troubled nature of her long married life, on which she must have been reflecting as she reached the limits of the autobiography she was prepared to share with the world, there is a poignancy in these optimistic diary entries without further gloss. As ever with Du Maurier's writing, the condensed narration, allusive and suggestive references, and the hint of many a story untold, speak volumes. The final words of this book still bring tears to my eyes. Helen Taylor.

Myself When Young was originally published with the title Growing Pains: The Shaping of a Writer. AW.

Billie Graeme
Myself When Young: The Shaping of a Writer

…- I rose at five a.m., pulled across the harbour in my pram, walked through the sleeping town, and climbed out on the cliffs just as the sun himself climbed out of Pont hill behind me. The sea was glass. The air was soft and misty warm. And the only other creature out of bed was a fisherman, hauling crab-pots, at the harbour mouth. It gave me a fine feeling of conceit, to be up before the world. I came down to Pridmouth bay, passing the solitary cottage by the lake, and, opening a small gate, saw a narrow path leading to the woods. Now, at last, I had the day before me, and no owls, no shadows could turn me back.
Myself when Young, Ch.6, Apprenticeship, p.151, Virago (2004).

The choice of favourite lines was absorbing and time-consuming requiring a rereading of much of Daphne's writing. My final decision is based on her love of the natural things around her at Menabilly and later at Kilmarth. She loved the daily walks through the woods down to the sea and never tired of watching the rhythm of the waves…Perhaps that is when the ideas for the magic of the plots for her writings came to be. Billie Graeme.

Rhythm is a recurring theme: Sheila Hodges, Daphne's former editor, wrote how she became fascinated by the sound of words and rhythm of phrases. CL.

Billie and her late husband Harry Graeme came to live in Fowey in 1948 and opened their photographic business in the old Noah's Ark in Fore Street. Harry died in 1965 but photography continued with painting, Billie's first love, taking a back seat. Billie was joined by Jim Matthews in 1967 who subsequently qualified in Photography. Billie now sells her oil and watercolour paintings and has published books of her paintings and drawings. Billie knew Daphne well and Jim's memorable 1970's photograph of her can be seen in Bookends of Fowey. CL.

Myself When Young was originally published with the title Growing Pains: The Shaping of a Writer. AW.