My bitterness is not an abstract substance, it is as solid as a Christmas cake; I can cut it in slices and hand it round and there is still plenty left, for tomorrow.

There is, happily, no limit to the faith of human nature in believing what it wants to believe.

One should never go back to a place one has loved; for, however, rough the going forward is, it is better than the snuffing out-of-love return.

money ... is only important when you have none; and though it may not be everything, it goes a very long way towards blocking up the winter draft of age.

There is nothing harder for an Artist than to retain his Artistic integrity in the tomb of success. A tomb, nevertheless, which nearly every Artist: whether he admits it or not; naturally wants to get into.

But there is that about well-intentioned advice that has the opposite effect of the one intended, and causes a Spanish fly of perversity to enter into the hitherto passive soul.

Love can bear anything better than ridicule.