Actual life was chaos, but there was something terribly logical in the imagination. It was the imagination that set remorse to dog the feet of sin. It was the imagination that made each crime bear its misshapen brood. In the common world of fact the wicked were not punished, nor the good rewarded. Success was given to the strong, failure thrust upon the weak. That was all.

And let me touch those curving claws of yellow ivory; and grasp the tail that like a monstrous asp coils round your heavy velvet paws.

The best way to enjoy your job is to imagine yourself without one.

He wanted to be where no one would know who he was. He wanted to escape from himself.

Always! That is the dreadful word ... it is a meaningless word, too.

The soul is born old but grows young. That is the comedy of life.

Life is too short to be in a hurry.