Suffering is one very long moment. We cannot divide it by seasons. We can only record its moods, and chronicle their return. With us time itself does not progress. It revolves. It seems to circle round one center of pain.

The world has been made by fools that wise men may live in it.

The only things one never regrets are one's mistakes.

The secret to life is to enjoy the pleasure of being terribly, terribly deceived.

Artists reproduce themselves or each other, with wearisome iteration. But criticism is always moving on, and the critic is always developing.

Marriage is the one subject on which all women agree and all men disagree.

Frank Harris has been received in all the great houses - once.