My weakness has always been to prefer the large intention of an unskilful artist to the trivial intention of an accomplished one: in other words, I am more interested in the high ideas of a feeble executant than in the high execution of a feeble thinker.

When women are secret they are secret indeed; and more often then not they only begin to be secret with the advent of a second lover.

The perfect woman, you see [is] a working-woman; not an idler; not a fine lady; but one who [uses] her hands and her head and her heart for the good of others.

That cold accretion called the world, so terrible in the mass, is so non formidable, even pitiable, in its units.

Many...have learned that the magnitude of lives is not as to their external displacements, but as to their subjective experiences. The impressionable peasant leads a larger, fuller, more dramatic life than the pachydermatous king.

If the story-tellers could ha' got decency and good morals from true stories, who'd have troubled to invent parables?

But no one came. Because no one ever does.