The only form of lying that is absolutely beyond reproach is lying for its own sake.

Literature always anticipates life. It doesn't copy it but moulds it to it's purpose.

My philosophy? I'm always right and you are wrong.

God knows; I won't be an Oxford don anyhow. I'll be a poet, a writer, a dramatist. Somehow or other I'll be famous, and if not famous, I'll be notorious. Or perhaps I'll lead the life of pleasure for a time and then—who knows?—rest and do nothing. What does Plato say is the highest end that man can attain here below? To sit down and contemplate the good. Perhaps that will be the end of me too.

If this is the way Queen Victoria treats her prisoners, she doesn't deserve to have any.

For us there is only one season, the season of sorrow. The very sun and moon seem taken from us.

To know anything about oneself one must know all about others.