Love has nothing to do with good reasons.

It is art that makes life, makes interest, makes importance.

Novelist-Citizen of Two Countries Interpreter of his Generation on both Sides of the Sea.

Life being all inclusion and confusion, and art being all discrimination and selection, the latter, in search of the hard latent value with which it alone is concerned, sniffs round the mass as instinctively and unerringly as a dog suspicious of some buried bone.

He is the same old sausage, fizzing and sputtering in his own grease.

I ought to tell you that I'm probably your cousin.

The image of the presence, whatever it was, waiting there for him to go -this image had not yet been so concrete for his nerves as when he stopped short of the point at which certainty would have come to him. For, with all his resolution, or more exactly with all his dread, he did stop short - he hung back from really seeing. The risk was too great and his fear too definite: it took at this moment an awful specific form.