True happiness, we are told, consists in getting out of one's self; but the point is not only to get out - you must stay out; and to stay out you must have some absorbing errand.

New York is appalling, fantastically charmless and elaborately dire.

There were several ways of understanding her: there was what she said, and there was what she meant, and there was something between the two, that was neither.

Oxford lends sweetness to labour and dignity to leisure.

There's no more usual basis of union than mutual misunderstanding.

I would give all I possess to get out of myself; but somehow, at the end, I find myself so vastly more interesting than nine tenths of the people I meet.

It was the way the autumn day looked into the high windows as it waned; the way the red light, breaking at the close from under a low sombre sky, reached out in a long shaft and played over old wainscots, old tapestry, old gold, old colour.