All a man can betray is his conscience.

A certain simplicity of thought is common to serene souls at both ends of the social scale.

Any work that aspires, however humbly, to the condition of art should carry its justification in every line.

The blight of futility that lies in wait for men's speeches had fallen upon our conversation and made it a thing of empty sounds.

All ambitions are lawful except those which climb upward on the miseries or credulities of mankind.

A historian may be an artist too, and a novelist is a historian, the preserver, the keeper, the expounder, of human experience.

Yet, when one thinks of it, diplomacy without force is a but a rotten reed to lean upon.