The artist is a member of the leisured classes who cannot pay for his leisure.

Two weeks before his death, a friend asked him half jokingly if he had discovered any meaning in life. "Yes," he replied, "there is a meaning; at least, for me, there is one thing that matters - to set a chime of words tinkling in the minds of a few fastidious people."

Words today are like the shells and rope of seaweed which a child brings home glistening from the beach and which in an hour have lost their luster.

If one is too lazy to think, too vain to do a thing badly, too cowardly to admit it, one will never attain wisdom.

It is only in the country that we can get to know a person or a book.

The reward of art is not fame or success but intoxication.

The true function of a writer is to produce a masterpiece and no other task is of any consequence.