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.

It was the old New York way...the way people who dreaded scandal more than disease, who placed decency above courage, and who considered that nothing was more ill-bred than "scenes", except those who gave rise to them.

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

Mothers and daughters are part of each other's consciousness, in different degrees and in a different way, but still with the mutual sense of something which has always been there. A real mother is just a habit of thought to her children.

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.

The taste of the usual was like cinders in his mouth, and there were moments when he felt as if he were being buried alive under his future.