All intimacies are based on differences.

One can't judge till one's forty; before that we're too eager, too hard, too cruel, and in addition much too ignorant.

Sorrow comes in great waves...but rolls over us, and though it may almost smother us, it leaves us. And we know that if it is strong, we are stronger, inasmuch as it passes and we remain.

The visible world is but man turned inside out that he may be revealed to himself.

That accurst autobiographic form which puts a premium on the loose, the improvised, the cheap, and the easy.

What is character but the determination of incident? What is incident but the illustration of character?

Her imagination was by habit ridiculously active; when the door was not open it jumped out the window.