He hasn't an enemy in the world, and none of his friend like him.

Genius learns from nature, its own nature. Talent learns from art.

As yet, Bernard Shaw hasn't become prominent enough to have any enemies, but none of his friends like him.

When people talk to us about others they are usually dull. When they talk to us about themselves they are nearly always interesting.

He is some brainless, beautiful creature, who should always be here in winter when we have no flowers to look at, and always here in the summer when we want something to chill our intelligence.

I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them.

They are always asking a writer why he does not write like somebody else, or a painter why he does not paint like somebody else, quite oblivious of the fact that if either of them did anything of the kind he would cease to be an artist.