Dialogue must appear realistic without being so. Actual realism-the lifting, as it were, of passages from a stenographer's take-down of a 'real life' conversation-would be disruptive. Of what? Of the illusion of the novel. In 'real life' everything is diluted; in the novel everything is condensed.

The most steady, the most self-sufficient nature depends, more than it knows, on its few chosen stimuli.

Habit is not mere subjugation, it is a tender tie; when one remembers habit it seems to have been happiness.

In big houses in which things are done properly, there is always the religious element. The diurnal cycle is observed with more feeling when there are servants to do the work.

Language is a mixture of statement and evocation.

Someone soon to start on a journey is always a little holy.

Sins cut boldly up through every class in society, but mere misdemeanours show a certain level in life.