In one dancing saloon I saw the only rational method of art criticism I have ever come across. Over the piano was printed a notice: 'Please do not shoot the pianist. He is doing his best.'

In modern life nothing produces such an effect as a good platitude. It makes the whole world kin.

Always! That is the dreadful word ... it is a meaningless word, too.

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.

The only difference between the saint and the sinner is that every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.

A burnt child loves the fire.

To believe is very dull. To doubt is intensely engrossing. To be on the alert is to live, to be lulled into security is to die.