Parents have too little respect for their children, just as the children have too much for the parents.

People who have power respond simply. They have no minds but their own.

There is probably nothing like living together for blinding people to each other.

As regards plots I find real life no help at all. Real life seems to have no plots.

Most of the pleasure of making a book would go if it held nothing to be shared by other people. I would write for a few dozen people, and sometimes it seems that I do so, but I would not write for no-one.

I am ill at ease with people whose lives are an open book.

Many people misjudge the permanent effect of sorrow, and their capacity to live in the past.