If they know nothing of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat.

A man's face is his autobiography. A woman's face is her work of fiction.

How strange a thing this is! The Priest telleth me that the Soul is worth all the gold in the world, and the merchants say that it is not worth a clipped piece of silver.

Experience is a question of instinct about life.

Aestheticism is a search after the signs of the beautiful. It is the science of the beautiful through which men seek the correlation of the arts. It is, to speak more exactly, the search after the secret of life.

They are always asking a writer why he does not write like somebody else, or a painter why he does not paint like somebody else, quite oblivious of the fact that if either of them did anything of the kind he would cease to be an artist.

Life is never fair, and perhaps it is a good thing for most of us that it is not.