In a very ugly and sensible age, the arts borrow, not from life, but from each other.

Placerea este testul naturii, semnul ei aprobator.

the costume of the nineteenth century is detestable. It is so sombre, so depressing. Sin is the only real colour-element left in modern life.

sorrow...is a wound that bleeds when any hand but that of love touches it

There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves we feel no one else has a right to blame us.

I wonder that no criminal has ever pleaded the ugliness of your city as an excuse for his crimes.

It is only by not paying one's bills that one can hope to live in the memory of the commercial classes.