Give me the right word and the right accent and I will move the world.

All one's work might have been better done; but this is a sort of reflection a worker must put aside courageously if he doesn't mean every one of his conceptions to remain forever a private vision, an evanescent reverie.

Everything belonged to him--but that was a trifle. The thing to know was what he belonged to, how many powers of darkness claimed him for their own.

Everything belonged to him. It made me hold my breath in expectation of hearing the wilderness burst into prodigious peal of laughter that would shake the fixed stars in their places.

We can never cease to be ourselves.

I can't imagine a human being so hard up for something to do as to quarrel with me.

All creative art is magic, is evocation of the unseen in forms persuasive, enlightening, familiar and surprising.