Lord, if there is a heartache Vienna cannot cure I hope never to feel it. I came home cured of everything except Vienna.

... the stomach is near the heart and one appetite pricks on another.

I am never happier than when I am alone in a foreign city; it is as if I had become invisible.

The writer - more especially the novelist - who has not, at one moment or another, considered his publisher unworthy of him, has still to be conceived.

Think of all the really successful men and women you know. Do you know a single one who didn't learn very young the trick of calling attention to himself in the right quarters?

Perhaps this is in the end what most marriages are - gentleness, memory, and habit.

Nothing lasts. Not even a great sorrow.