in my skimmings over fiction I cannot recall any writer so continuously implicated in his own work as George Moore.

Sometimes it seems your ever-increasing list of things to do can leave you feeling totally undone.

Perhaps it’s true, my happiest moments are the anticipation of other moments still to come.

Motherhood: the days are long, the years are short.

Ireland regards sex, when she regards it at all, with an entirely primitive and practical eye.

There has been no lack of courage in Ireland; there never is, but even our courage has a fatal quality.

[On writer George Moore:] ... I grew curious about Moore. Yet when at the rehearsal of 'Countess Cathleen' in some dark by-way of London, I was told he was present, I cannot recall any form, only an irritation in the dusty atmosphere.