Women are like dogs really. They love like dogs, a little insistently. And they like to fetch and carry and come back wistfully after hard words, and learn rather easily to carry a basket.

having considerable mind, changing it became almost as ponderous an operation as moving a barn, although not nearly so stable.

There is a point at which curiosity becomes unbearable, when it becomes an obsession, like hunger.

Great loves were almost always great tragedies. Perhaps it was because love was never truly great until the element of sacrifice entered into it.

the theater is the only money-making business I know in which haste apparently rules from first to last.

every act of one's life is the unavoidable result of every act that has preceded it.

the calm of a place like Bellwood is the peace of death without the hope of resurrection.