... there are shadows because there are hills.

Pity wraps the student of the past in an ambrosial cloud, and washes his limbs with eternal youth.

Only a writer who has the sense of evil can make goodness readable.

There is an aristocracy of the sensitive. They represent the true human tradition of permanent victory over cruelty and chaos.

Culture had worked in her own case, but during the last few weeks she had doubted whether it humanized the majority, so wide and so widening is the gulf that stretches between the natural and the philosophic man, so many the good chaps who are wrecked in trying to cross it.

Expansion, that is the idea the novelist must cling to, not completion, not rounding off, but opening out.

He was obliged however to throw over Christianity. Those who base their conduct upon what they are rather than upon what they ought to be, always must throw it over in the end . . . .