We insist, it seems, on living.

He called her a melon, a pineapple, an olive tree, an emerald, and a fox in the snow all in the space of three seconds; he did not know whether he had heard her, tasted her, seen her, or all three together.

The hatchet must fall on the block; the oak must be cleft to the centre. The weight of the world is on my shoulders. Here is the pen and the paper; on the letters in the wire basket I sign my name, I, I, and again I.

Friendships, even the best of them, are frail things. One drifts apart.

Literature is strewn with the wreckage of men who have minded beyond reason the opinions of others.

It was the intimacy, a sort of spiritual suppleness, when mind prints upon mind indelibly.

Praise and blame alike mean nothing. No, delightful as the pastime of measuring may be, it is the most futile of all occupations, and to submit to the decrees of the measurers the most servile of attitudes.