There was no freedom in life, and certainly there was none in death.

For the eye has this strange property: it rests only on beauty.

Books are everywhere; and always the same sense of adventure fills us. Second-hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack. Besides, in this random miscellaneous company we may rub against some complete stranger who will, with luck, turn into the best friend we have in the world.

It is a thousand pities never to say what one feels.

What is meant by reality? It would seem to be something very erratic, very undependable - now to be found in a dusty road, now in a scrap of newspaper in the street, now a daffodil in the sun. It lights up a group in a room and stamps some casual saying

It is probable that both in life and in art the values of a woman are not the values of a man.

There is something I want-something I have come to get, and she fell deeper and deeper without knowing quite what it was, with her eyes closed.