Middlemarch, the magnificent book which with all its imperfections is one of the few English novels for grown-up people.

There was no treachery too base for the world to commit.

With twice his wits, she had to see things through his eyes -- one of the tragedies of married life.

How remorseless life is!

If Shakespeare had never existed, he asked, would the world have differed much from what it is today? Does the progress of civilization depend upon great men? Is the lot of the average human being better now that in the time of the Pharaohs?

So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say.

I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.