Just because a man has died for it, does not make it true.

She lives the poetry she cannot write.

There is no doubt that genius lasts longer than beauty.

She...can talk brillantly upon any subject provided she knows nothing about it.

Can they feel, I wonder, those white silent people we call the dead?

My writing has gone to bits - like my character. I am simply a self-conscious nerve in pain.

We live in an age when unnecessary things are our only necessities.