There is no escaping, at times, the gloomy suspicion that fiddling with pens and ink is, after all, no fit employment for a grown man.

For all men have but a little while to live and none knows his fate thereafter. So that a man possesses nothing certainly save a brief loan of his body: and yet the body of man is capable of much curious pleasure.

People never want to be told anything they do not believe already.

The desire to write perfectly of beautiful happenings is, as the saying runs, old as the hills — and as immortal.

There is not any memory with less satisfaction than the memory of some temptation we resisted.

There is no gift more great than love.

No lady is ever a gentleman.