She had been bored all afternoon by Percy Gryce... but she could not ignore him on the morrow, she must follow up her success, must submit to more boredom, must be ready with fresh compliances and adaptibilities, and all on the bare chance that he might ultimately decide to do her the honour of boring her for life.

There are moments when a man's imagination, so easily subdued to what it lives in, suddenly rises above its daily level and surveys the long windings of destiny.

The effect produced by a short story depends almost entirely on its form.

Life is the only real counselor; wisdom unfiltered through personal experience does not become a part of the moral tissue.

Everything about her was warm and soft and scented; even the stains of her grief became her as raindrops do the beaten rose.

Mothers and daughters are part of each other's consciousness, in different degrees and in a different way, but still with the mutual sense of something which has always been there. A real mother is just a habit of thought to her children.

True originality consists not in a new manner but in a new vision.