Everyone realizes that one can believe little of what people say about each other. But it is not so widely realized that even less can one trust what people say about themselves.

It would be no loss to the world if most of the writers now writing had been strangled at birth.

Did St. Francis preach to the birds? Whatever for? If he really liked birds he would have done better to preach to the cats.

Mr. Arnold Bennett feels he has ranked himself for ever as a dry wine by what he mixed with himself of Maupassant; nevertheless he has put on the market some grocer's Sauterne in the form of several novels that are highly sentimental so far as their fundamental balance of values is concerned.

There was too much hatred in the world; it was manifestly as dangerous as gunpowder, yet people let it lie about, in the way of ignition.

Idiocy is the female defect ... It is no worse than the male defect, which is lunacy.

If the poor ever feel poor as the rich do, we will have a most bloody revolution.