I can resist anything but the temptation to make a clever witticism.

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

Through our sunless lanes creeps Poverty with her hungry eyes, and Sin with his sodden face follows close behind her. Misery wakes us in the morning and Shame sits with us at night.

I summed up all systems in a phrase, and all existence in an epigram.

It is not wise to find symbols in everything that one sees. It makes life too full of terrors.

What of Art? -It is a malady. --Love? -An Illusion. --Religion? -The fashionable substitute for Belief. --You are a sceptic. -Never! Scepticism is the beginning of Faith. --What are you? -To define is to limit.

One should never trust a woman who tells one her real age. A woman who would tell one that would tell one anything.