Make him [the reader] think the evil, make him think it for himself, and you are released from weak specifications.

No, no—there are depths, depths! The more I go over it, the more I see in it, and the more I see in it, the more I fear. I don’t know what I don’t see—what I don’t fear!

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.

I have performed the necessary butchery. Here is the bleeding corpse.

She is written in a foreign tongue.

There were always people to snatch at you, and it would never occur to them that they were eating you up. They did that without tasting.

You must save what you can of your life; you musn't lose it all simply because you've lost a part.