Long ago I realized that no other person would be to me what you are.

Jealousy ... survives every other passion of mankind.

There was a serenity about him always that had the look of innocence, when, technically, the word was no longer applicable.

what she loved: life, London, this moment of june.

To whom can I expose the urgency of my own passion?…There is nobody—here among these grey arches, and moaning pigeons, and cheerful games and tradition and emulation, all so skilfully organised to prevent feeling alone.

I see through most people; I'm hardly ever wrong. I see at once what they've got in them.

One ought to sink to the bottom of the sea, probably, and live alone with one's words.