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.

Charming people live up to the very edge of their charm, and behave as outrageously as the world will let them.

The indefatigable pursuit of an unattainable perfection -even though nothing more than the pounding of an old piano -is what alone gives a meaning to our life on this unavailing star.

Self-respecting people do not care to peep at their reflections in unexpected mirrors, or to see themselves as others see them.

Eat with the rich, but go to the play with the poor, who are capable of joy.

This nice and subtle happiness of reading, this joy not chilled by age, this polite and unpunished vice, this selfish, serene life-long intoxication.

All my life, as down an abyss without a bottom. I have been pouring van loads of information into that vacancy of oblivion I call my mind.