... one doesn't really profit from experience; one merely learns to predict the next mistake.

The sweetness that all longed for night and day. Some tragedy might be idly guessed at-loss or illness. She had the luminosity of those about to die.

Sometimes, surely, truth is closer to imagination or to intelligence, to love than to fact? To be accurate is not to be right.

A poet or novelist will invent interruptions to avoid long consecutive days at the ordained page; and of these the most pernicious are other kinds of writing -- articles, lectures, reviews, a wide correspondence.

Madness might sometimes give access to a kind of knowledge. But was not a guarantee.

There is balance in life, but not fairness.

Perhaps if we lived with less physical beauty we would develop our true natures more.