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

His eyes were bright, and, indeed, he scarcely knew whether they held dreams or realities...and in five minutes she had filled the shell of the old dream with the flesh of life.

Travelers are much at the mercy of phrases ... vast generalizations formulate in their exposed brains.

Who would not spout the family teapot in order to talk with Keats for an hour about poetry, or with Jane Austen about the art of fiction?

To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is...at last, to love it for what it is, and then, to put it away.

The world is crammed with delightful things

Ransack the language as he might, words failed him. He wanted another landscape, and another tongue.