The taste of the usual was like cinders in his mouth, and there were moments when he felt as if he were being buried alive under his future.

Everything may be labelled- but everybody is not.

One of the surprises of her unoccupied state was the discovery that time, when it is left to itself and no definite demands are made on it, cannot be trusted to move at any recognized pace

I have never known a novel that was good enough to be good in spite of its being adapted to the author's political views.

...I have always lived on contrasts! To me the only death is monotony. Beware of monotony; it's the mother of all the deadly sins.

One of the first obligations of art is to make all useful things beautiful.

... caprice is as ruinous as routine.