It is the dread of something happening, something unknown and dreadful, that makes us do anything to keep the flicker of talk from dying out.

Money and sex are forces too unruly for our reason; they can only be controlled by taboos with which we tamper at our peril.

What humbugs we are, who pretend to live for beauty, and never see the dawn!

We need two kinds of acquaintances, one to complain to, while to the others we boast.

Growing old is not a gradual decline, but a series of drops, full of sorrow, from one ledge to another below it.

The vitality of a new movement in Art must be gauged by the fury it arouses.

Don't let young people tell you their aspirations; when they drop them they will drop you.