Every little action of the common day makes or unmakes character.

They get up early, because they have so much to do, and go to bed early, because they have so little to think about.

The past could always be annihilated. Regret, denial, or forgetfulness could do that. But the future was inevitable.

The ancient historians gave us delightful fiction in the form of fact; the modern novelist presents us with dull facts under the guise of fiction.

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

He has no enemies, but he is intensely disliked by his friends.

A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight.