The only two good words that can be said for a hurricane are that it gives sufficient warning of its approach, and that it blows from one point of the compass at a time.

It is a pretty trick of authors to make nature ever in sympathy with man, but as a matter of fact she seldom is.

The grief of childhood is terrible while it lasts, it is so abandoned and so all-possessing.

No loose fish enters our quiet bay.

The only real rival of love is Art, for that in itself is a deep personal passion, its function an act of creation, fed by some mysterious perversion of sex, and demanding all the imagination's activities.

Women love the lie that saves their pride, but never an unflattering truth.

if there's a spirit world why don't the ghosts of dead artists get together and inhibit bad playwrights from tormenting first-nighters?