She was not accustomed to taste the joys of solitude except in company.

Another unsettling element in modern art is that common symptom of immaturity, the dread of doing what has been done before.

Through this atmosphere of torrid splendor moved wan beings as richly upholstered as the furniture, beings without definite pursuits or permanent relations, who drifted on a languid tide of curiosity... Somewhere behind them, in the background of their lives there was doubtless a real past, yet they had no more real existence than the poet's shades in limbo.

[I]t's safer to be fond of dangerous people.

Old age, calm, expanded, broad with the haughty breadth of the universe, old age flowing free with the delicious near-by freedom of death.

My last page is always latent in my first; but the intervening windings of the way become clear only as I write.

To your generation, I must represent the literary equivalent of tufted furniture and gas chandeliers.