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.

My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One of us has got to go.

It is through art, and through art only, that we can realise our perfection.

Ah, on what little things does happiness depend! I have read all that the wise men have written, and all the secrets of philosophy are mine, yet for want of a red rose is my life made wretched.

You like every one; that is to say, you are indifferent to every one.

When a man has once loved a woman he will do anything for her except continue to love her.

Cleverness becomes a public nuisance.