One of the great things about travel is you find out how many good, kind people there are.

... caprice is as ruinous as routine.

And all the while, I suppose," he thought, "real people were living somewhere, and real things happening to them.

For what endless years this life will have to go on! He felt, with a kind of horror, his own strong youth and the bounding blood in his veins.

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.

Since the Americans have ceased to have dyspepsia, they have lost the only thing that gave them any expression.

Almost everybody in the neighborhood had troubles, frankly localized and specified; but only the chosen had complications. To have them was in itself a distinction, though it was also, in most cases, a death warrant. People struggled on for years wit