It is only by knowing how little life has in store for us that we are able to look on the bright side and avoid disappointment.

you could have forgiven my committing a sin if you hadn't feared that I had a committed a pleasure as well.

... to be "literary" appeared to my deluded innocence as an unending romance.

To mourn was distressing, but to endeavor to mourn and fail was worse than distress.

Surely the novel should be a form of art - but art was not enough. It must contain not only the perfection of art, but the imperfection of nature.

There is no monster more destructive than the inventive mind that has outstripped philosophy.

There is a terrible loneliness in the spring.