No, I'm not clever. I've always cared more for people than for ideas.

I like books whose virtue is all drawn together in a page or two. I like sentences that don't budge though armies cross them.

Incessant company is as bad as solitary confinement.

There is much to support the view that it is clothes that wear us, and not we, them.

I begin to long for some little language such as lovers use, broken words, inarticulate words, like the shuffling of feet on pavement.

Yet, it is true, poetry is delicious; the best prose is that which is most full of poetry.

Chastity ... has, even now, a religious importance in a woman's life, and has so wrapped itself round with nerves and instincts that to cut it free and bring it to the light of day demands courage of the rarest.