On a cold winter morning a cigar fortifies the soul.

Politics in a literary work, is like a gun shot in the middle of a concert, something vulgar, and however, something which is impossible to ignore.

Our true passions are selfish.

The tyranny of public opinion (and what an opinion!) is as fatuous in the small towns of France as it is in the United States of America.

Signs cannot be represented, in a spy's report, so damningly as words.

Any man who talks about his love affairs thereby proves he is ignorant of love and is moved only by vanity.

I used to think of deathlike I suppose soldiers think of it: it was a possible thing that I could well avoid by my skill.