We ought to be opening a bottle of wine!

Beware of monotony; it's the mother of all the deadly sins.

For hours she had lain in a kind of gentle torpor, not unlike that sweet lassitude which masters one in the hush of a midsummer noon, when the heat seems to have silenced the very birds and insects, and, lying sunk in the tasselled meadow grasses, one looks up through a level roofing of maple-leaves at the vast, shadowless, and unsuggestive blue.

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

In our hurried world too little value is attached to the part of the connoisseur and dilettante.

A frivolous society can acquire dramatic significance only through what its frivolity destroys.

...and wondering where he had read that clever liars give details, but that the cleverest do not.