Then I feel, Harry, that I have given away my whole soul to someone who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a summer's day.

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

To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.

I now see that sorrow, being the supreme emotion of which man is capable, is at once the type and test of all great art.

He was a hero to his valet, who bullied him, and a terror to most of his relations, whom he bullied in turn. Only England could have produced him, and he always said that the country was going to the dogs. His principles were out of date, but there was a good deal to be said for his prejudices.

Every great man nowadays has his disciples, and it is usually Judas who writes the biography.

The only link between Literature and the Drama left to us in England at the present moment is the bill of the play.