There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.

With a shiver of foreboding he saw his marriage becoming what most of the other marriages about him were: a dull association of material and social interests held together by ignorance on the one side and hypocrisy on the other.

The short story, free from the longuers of the novel is also exempt from the novel's conclusiveness--too often forced and false: it may thus more nearly than the novel approach aesthetic and moral truth.

I swear I only want to hear about you, to know what you've been doing. It's a hundred years since we've met-it may be another hundred before we meet again.

She would not have put herself out so much to say so little.

The moment my eyes fell on him, I was content.

I'm afraid I'm an incorrigible life-lover, life-wonderer, and adventurer.