Literature nowadays is a trade... the successful man of letters is your skilful tradesman. He thinks first and foremost of the markets.

To every man it is decreed: Thou shalt live alone. Happy they who imagine that they have escaped the common lot; happy, whilst they imagine it.

It is the mind which creates the world around us, and even though we stand side by side in the same meadow, my eyes will never see what is beheld by yours, my heart will never stir to the emotions with which yours is touched.

Have the courage of your desire.

Time is money says the proverb, but turn it around and you get a precious truth. Money is time.

In nothing more is the English genius for domesticity more notably declared than in the institution of this festival-almost one may call it-of afternoon tea...the mere chink of cups and saucers tunes the mind to happy repose.

Flippancy, the most hopeless form of intellectual vice.