So that is marriage, Lily thought, a man and a woman looking at a girl throwing a ball

For love... has two faces; one white, the other black; two bodies; one smooth, the other hairy. It has two hands, two feet, two tails, two, indeed, of every member and each one is the exact opposite of the other. Yet, so strictly are they joined together

For books continue each other, in spite of our habit of judging them separately.

It is the duty of the writer to describe.

Really I don't like human nature unless all candied over with art.

The mind must be allowed to settle undisturbed over the object in order to secrete the pearl.

Books should stand on their own feet ... If they need shoring up by a preface here, an introduction there, they have no more right to exist than a table that needs a wad of paper under one leg in order to stand steady.