Sorrow is tranquility remembered in emotion.
Innocence is a desirable thing, a dainty thing, an appealing thing, in its place; but carried too far, it is merely ridiculous.
People ought to be one of two things, young or dead.
And where does she find them?
[Completely bored by a country weekend, wiring to a friend:] For heaven's sake, rush me a loaf of bread, enclosing saw and file.
For a few minutes, everything is so cute that the mind reels.... And then, believe it or not, things get worse. So I shot myself.