Yesterday, happiness came in suddenly, as it used to, and remained for a moment in the great, dark, silent drawing room.

I have always thought that by observing things with a great deal of attention you eventually wrest some of their secrets from them, making them utter what they would most like to keep to themselves.

Thoughts fly and words go on foot. Therein lies all the drama of a writer.

You cannot imagine at all how much you interest God; He is interested in you as if there were no one else on earth.

Anti-clericalism and non-belief, have their bigots just as orthodoxy does.

The man I am will always raise a protest against the man I wanted to be and the two will live together to the end, but the man I wanted to be will be the one on whom judgement will be passed.

A scrupulous man will never produce a great novel.