...though she had not had the strength to shake off the spell that bound her to him she had lost all spontaneity of feeling, and seemed to herself to be passively awaiting a fate she could not avert.

Yes, you have been away a very long time.' 'Oh, centuries and centuries; so long,' she said, 'that I'm sure I'm dead and buried and this dear old place is heaven.

[B]ut he had lived in a world in which, as he said, no one who loved ideas need hunger mentally.

After all, one knows one's weak points so well, that it's rather bewildering to have the critics overlook them and invent others.

Genius is of small use to a woman who does not know how to do her hair.

Why do we call all our generous ideas illusions, and the mean ones truths?

Life is always either; a tight -rope or a feather-bed . — Give me the tightrope.