To regret one’s own experiences is to arrest one’s own development. To deny one’s own experiences is to put a lie into the lips of one’s own life. It is no less than a denial of the soul.

Nobody of any real culture, for instance, ever talks nowadays about the beauty of sunset. Sunsets are quite old fashioned. To admire them is a distinct sign of provincialism of temperament. Upon the other hand they go on.

Friendship is far more tragic than love. It lasts longer.

It is only about things that do not interest one that one can give a really unbiased opinion, which is no doubt the reason why an unbiased opinion is always absolutely valueless.

The chin a little higher, dear. Style largely depends on the way the chin is worn. They are worn very high, just at present.

The bright dawn flooded the room, and swept the fantastic shadows into dusky corners, where they lay shuddering.

It is a sad truth, but we have lost the faculty of giving lovely names to things.