... pure honesty is a doubtful quality; it means often lack of imagination.

The history of most women is hidden either by silence, or by flourishes and ornaments that amount to silence.

It is equally vain,” she thought, “for you to think you can protect me, or for me to think I can worship you. The light of truth beats upon us without shadow, and the light of truth is damnably unbecoming to us both.

You cannot lecture on really pure poetry any more than you can talk about the ingredients of pure water-it is adulterated, methylated, sanded poetry that makes the best lectures.

It is part of the novelist's convention not to mention soup and salmon and ducklings, as if soup and salmon and ducklings were of no importance.

I will go down with my colours flying.

If it were now to die, 'twere now to be most happy.