You beat the liver out of a goose to get a pâté; you pound the muscles of a man's cardia to get a philosopher.

When autumn shadows throw their patterns across the land, they are not the images of fragile, dying leaves, not the bared arms of lofty elms, not shadows of a fading summer; but swinging shapes as of books upon a strap, of round and square boxes held under an arm, of hurrying little people heading towards the nearest school.

The truth is how you say it, and to be 'one's self' is the most shocking custom of all.

Even the contemplative life is only an effort, Nora my dear, to hide the body so the feet won’t stick out.

The heart of the jealous knows the best and most satisfying love, that of the other's bed, where the rival perfects the lover's imperfections.

Una's face was an unbroken block of calculation, saving where, upon her upper lip, a little down of hair fluttered. Yet it gave one an uncanny feeling. It made one think of a tassel on a hammer.

No man needs curing of his individual sickness; his universal malady is what he should look to.