It is the vice of a vulgar mind to be thrilled by bigness.

When love flies it is remembered not as love but as something else.

Though life is very glorious, it is difficult.

The final test for a novel will be our affection for it, as it is the test of our friends, and of anything else which we cannot define.

Then she lay on her back and gazed at the cloudless sky. Mr. Beebe, whose opinion of her rose daily, whispered to his niece that that was the proper way to behave if any little thing went wrong.

It's not what people do to you, but what they mean, that hurts.

My law-givers are Erasmus and Montaigne, not Moses and St Paul.