He had the look of one who had drunk the cup of life and found a dead beetle at the bottom.

It is not the being paid money in advance that jars the sensitive artist: it is the having to work.

It was a confusion of ideas between him and one of the lions he was hunting in Kenya that had caused A. B. Spottsworth to make the obituary column. He thought the lion was dead, and the lion thought it wasn't.

As we grow older and realize more clearly the limitations of human happiness, we come to see that the only real and abiding pleasure in life is to give pleasure to other people.

The storm is over, there is sunlight in my heart. I have a glass of wine and sit thinking of what has passed.

We must always remember, however,' said Psmith gravely, 'that poets are also God's creatures.

What is Love compared with holing out before your opponent?