He fell in love with himself at first sight and it is a passion to which he has always remained faithful. Selflove seems so often unrequited.

Dinner at the Huntercombes' possessed only two dramatic features - the wine was a farce and the food a tragedy.

One passes through the world knowing few, if any, of the important things about even the people with whom one has been from time to time in the closest intimacy.

Few persons who have ever sat for a portrait can have felt anything but inferior while the process is going on.

I get a warm feeling among my books.

Slowly, but very deliberately, the brooding edifice of seduction, creaking and incongruous, came into being, a vast Heath Robinson mechanism, dually controlled by them and lumbering gloomily down vistas of triteness. With a sort of heavy-fisted dexterity the mutually adapted emotions of each of them became synchronized, until the unavoidable anti-climax was at hand.

Writing is above all a question of instinct.