Woman too commonly commits the sin of self-sacrifice whereby she consents to be sequestered in the home, without intellectual stimulus, so that the tranquil flame of her unspoiled soul should radiate purity and nobility upon an indefinitely extended family.

For the sake of my country, and perhaps a little for the sake of my soul, I have given up the deep peace of being in opposition.

I wonder if we are all wrong about each other, if we are just composing unwritten novels about the people we meet?

Once a secret society establishes itself within an open society, there is no end to the hideous mistrust it must cause.

[On Jane Austen:] To believe her limited in range because she was harmonious in method is as sensible as to imagine that when the Atlantic Ocean is as smooth as a mill-pond it shrinks to the size of a mill-pond.

Where there is real love one wants to go to church first.

Mr. James Joyce is a great man who is entirely without taste.