Memory is the diary that chronicles things that never have happened and couldn't possibly have happened.
Common sense is the enemy of Romance :P:P
Sin is a thing that writes itself across a man's face. It cannot be concealed. People talk sometimes of secret vices, there are no such things. If a wretched man has a vice, it shows itself in the lines of his mouth, the droop of his eyelids, the moulding of his hands even.
I am tired of myself to-night. I should like to be somebody else.
To become a spectator of one's own life is to escape the suffering of life.
As for modern journalism, it is not my business to defend it. It justifies its own existence by the great Darwinian principle of the survival of the vulgarest.