Her memory's your love. You want no other.

Everything about Florence seems to be colored with a mild violet, like diluted wine.

It is no wonder he wins every game. He has never done a thing in his life exept play games

Take the word for it of a man who has made his way inch by inch, and does not believe that we'll wake up to find our work done because we've lain all night a-dreaming of it; anything worth doing is devilish hard to do!

There are moods in which one feels the impulse to enter a tacit protest against too gross an appetite for pure aesthetics in this starving and sinning world. One turns half away, musingly, from certain beautiful useless things.

...The peculiar air of Oxford-the air of liberty to care for the things of the mind assured and secured by machinery which is in itself a satisfaction to sense.

Art is nothing more than the shadow of humanity.