For books continue each other, in spite of our habit of judging them separately.

He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

No passion is stronger in the breast of a man than the desire to make others believe as he believes. Nothing so cuts at the root of his happiness and fills him with rage as the sense that another rates low what he prizes high.

I am not so gifted as at one time seemed likely.

One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.

I like going from one lighted room to another, such is my brain to me; lighted rooms.

One has to secrete a jelly in which to slip quotations down people's throats - and one always secretes too much jelly.