Once she knows how to read there's only one thing you can teach her to believe in and that is herself.

There'll be oceans of talk and emotions without end.

She came into a room; she stood, as he had often seen her, in a doorway with lots of people round her. But it was Clarissa one remembered. Not that she was striking; not beautiful at all; there was nothing picturesque about her; she never said anything specially clever; there she was however; there she was.

So I have to create the whole thing afresh for myself each time. Probably all writers now are in the same boat. It is the penalty we pay for breaking with tradition, and the solitude makes the writing more exciting though the being read less so. One ought to sink to the bottom of the sea, probably, and live alone with ones words.

Yield to that strange passion which sends you madly whirling round the room.

To read a novel is a difficult and complex art. You must be capable not only of great fineness of perception, but of great boldness of imagination.

I am volatile for one, rigid for another, angular as an icicle in silver, or voluptuous as a candle flame in gold.