There are two ways to spread happiness; either be the light who shines it or be the mirror who reflects it.

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.

Ah, good conversation - there's nothing like it, is there? The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing.

The worst of doing one's duty was that it apparently unfitted one for doing anything else.

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.

The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing.

The early mist had vanished and the fields lay like a silver shield under the sun. It was one of the days when the glitter of winter shines through a pale haze of spring.