Silence may be as variously shaded as speech.

To your generation, I must represent the literary equivalent of tufted furniture and gas chandeliers.

Do you remember what you said to me once? That you could help me only by loving me? Well-you did love me for a moment; and it helped me. It has always helped me.

Another unsettling element in modern art is that common symptom of immaturity, the dread of doing what has been done before.

... caprice is as ruinous as routine.

Life is the saddest thing there is, next to death.

She said she knew we were safe with you, and always would be, because once, when she asked you to, you'd given up the thing you most wanted." Archer received this strange communication in silence. His eyes remained unseeingly fixed on the thronged sunlit square below the window. At length he said in a low voice: "She never asked me.