I hold we cannot be said to be aware of our minds save under responsibility.

How do you know what the world is like? Do you know the world is a foul sty? Do you know if you rip the fronts off houses you'd find swine? The world's a hell. What does it matter what happens in it?

A dramatist is one who from his earliest years has found that sheer gazing at the shocks and counter-shocks among people is quite sufficiently engrossing without having to encase it in comment.

If a man has no vices, he is in great danger of making vices about his virtues, and there's a spectacle.

The stuff of which masterpieces are made drifts about the world waiting to be clothed in words.

Love is an energy which exists of itself. It is its own value.

Favors cease to be favors when there are conditions attached to them.