But then anyone who's worth anything reads just what he likes, as the mood takes him, and with extravagant enthusiasm.

His eyes were bright, and, indeed, he scarcely knew whether they held dreams or realities...and in five minutes she had filled the shell of the old dream with the flesh of life.

I enjoy the spring more than the autumn now. One does, I think, as one gets older.

The depths of the sea are only water after all.

What does the brain matter compared with the heart?

One should aim, seriously, at disregarding ups and downs; a compliment here, silence there ... the central fact remains stable, which is the fact of my own pleasure in the art.

Then may I tell you that the very next words I read were these – ‘Chloe liked Olivia…’ Do not start. Do not blush. Let us admit in the privacy of our own society that these things sometimes happen. Sometimes women do like women.