I have pleasures, and passions, but the joy of life is gone. I am going under: the morgue yawns for me. I go and look at my zinc-bed there. After all, I had a wonderful life, which is, I fear, over.

Greek dress was in its essence inartistic. Nothing should reveal the body but the body.

A true artist takes no notice whatever of the public. The public to him are non-existent.

But then one regrets the loss even of one's worst habits. Perhaps one regrets them the most. They are such an essential part of one's personality.

As one knows the poet by his fine music, so one can recognize the liar by his rich rhythmic utterance, and in neither case will the casual inspiration of the moment suffice. Here, as elsewhere, practice must precede perfection.

Twenty years of romance makes a woman look like a ruin; but twenty years of marriage makes her something like a public building.

The dim roar of London was like the bourdon note of a distant organ