The writer, unlike his non-writing adult friend, has no predisposed outlook; he seldom observes deliberately. He sees what he didnot intend to see; he remembers what does not seem wholly possible. Inattentive learner in the schoolroom of life, he keeps some faculty free to veer and wander. His is the roving eye.

without fiction, either life would be insufficient or the winds from the north would blow too cold.

Habit, of which passion must be wary, may all the same be the sweetest part of love.

one should discuss one's difficulties only when they are over.

children like change - for one thing, they never anticipate regret.

In 'real life' everything is diluted; in the novel everything is condensed.

memory is to love what the saucer is to the cup.