We can destroy what we have written, but we cannot unwrite it.

Reviewers do not read books with much care . . . their profession is more given to stupidity and malice and literary ignorance even than the profession of novelist.

Welly, welly, welly, welly, welly, welly, well. To what do I owe the extreme pleasure of this surprising visit?

...the essential intention is the real sin. A man who cannot choose ceases to be a man.

He said it was artificial respiration, but now I find I am to have his child.

This must be a real horrorshow film if you're so keen on my viddying it.

It had been a wonderful evening and what I needed now, to give it the perfect ending, was a little of the Ludwig Van.