Imitate the magnificent trees that speak no word of their rapture, but only breathe largely the luminous breeze.

Marriage and deathless friendship, both should be inviolable and sacred: two great creative passions, separate, apart, but complementary: the one pivotal, the other adventurous: the one, marriage, the centre of human life; and the other, the leap ahead.

The mind is "ashamed" of the blood. And the blood is destroyed by the mind, actually. Hence palefaces.

The old ideals are dead as nails--nothing there. It seems to me there remains only this perfect union with a woman--sort of ultimate marriage--and there isn't anything else.

The cosmos is a vast living body, of which we are still parts. The sun is a great heart whose tremors run through our smallest veins. The moon is a great nerve center from which we quiver forever. Who knows the power that Saturn has over us, or Venus? But it is a vital power, rippling exquisitely through us all the time.

That which one cannot experience in daily life is not true for oneself.

Any novel of importance has a purpose. If only the "purpose" be large enough, and not at outs with the passional inspiration.