The adventure is over. Everything gets over, and nothing is ever enough. Except the part you carry with you.

The Portrait of a Lady is entirely successful in giving one the sense of having met somebody far too radiantly good for this world.

Man is a hating rather than a loving animal.

every human activity, whether it be love, philosophy, art, or revolution, is carried on with a special intensity in Paris.

Motherhood is the strangest thing, it can be like being one's own Trojan horse.

I cannot think that espionage can be recommended as a technique for building an impressive civilization. It's a lout's game.

There is nothing rarer than a man who can be trusted never to throw away happiness, however eagerly he sometimes grasps it. In history we are as frequently interested in our own doom.