Consolation for those moments when you can't tell whether you're the divinest genius or the greatest fool in the world.

With her foot on the threshold she waited a moment longer in a scene which was vanishing even as she looked, and then, as she moved and took Minta's arm and left the room, it changed, it shaped itself differently; it had become, she knew, giving one last look at it over her shoulder, already the past.

Books are the mirrors of the soul.

And now more than anything I want beautiful prose. I relish it more and more exquisitely.

It's not catastrophes, murders, deaths, diseases, that age and kill us; it's the way people look and laugh, and run up the steps of omnibuses.

One cannot bring children into a world like this. One cannot perpetuate suffering, or increase the breed of these lustful animals, who have no lasting emotions, but only whims and vanities, eddying them now this way, now that.

If the best of one's feelings means nothing to the person most concerned in those feelings, what reality is left us?