Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.

It is love, and not German philosophy, that is the true explanation of the world, whatever may be the explanation of the next.

The man with a clear conscience probably has a poor memory.

Early in life she had discovered the important truth that nothing looks so like innocence as an indiscretion; and by a series of reckless escapades, half of them quite harmless, she had acquired all the privileges of a personality.

I suppose society is wonderfully delightful. To be in it is merely a bore. But to be out of it is simply a tragedy.

Love is like a war; easy to start but hard to end and you never know where it might take you.

With subtle and finely-wrought temperaments it is always so. Their strong passions must either bruise or bend. They either slay the man, or themselves die. Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and the sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude.