My writing has gone to bits - like my character. I am simply a self-conscious nerve in pain.

Prayer must never be answered: if it is, it ceases to be prayer and becomes correspondence.

Truth in art is the unity of a thing with itself: the outward rendered expressive of the inward: the soul made incarnate: the body instinct with spirit. For this reason there is no truth comparable to sorrow.

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

Indifference is the revenge the world takes on mediocrities.

There is always something infinitely mean about other people's tragedies.

The truth is rarely pure and never simple.