memory, like a horrible malady, was eating his soul away

The world seemed to me fine because you were in it, and goodness more real because you lived.

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

The American father is never seen in London. He passes his life entirely in Wall Street and communicates with his family once a month by means of a telegram in cipher.

It's not hard to get the ideas when they come. They just come... it's painful waiting for them.

God knows; I won't be an Oxford don anyhow. I'll be a poet, a writer, a dramatist. Somehow or other I'll be famous, and if not famous, I'll be notorious. Or perhaps I'll lead the life of pleasure for a time and then—who knows?—rest and do nothing. What does Plato say is the highest end that man can attain here below? To sit down and contemplate the good. Perhaps that will be the end of me too.

Sin is a thing that writes itself across a man's face. It cannot be concealed.