Well, I’ve had my fun; I’ve had it, he thought, looking up at the swinging baskets of pale geraniums. And it was smashed to atoms—his fun, for it was half made up, as he knew very well; invented, this escapade with the girl; made up, as one makes up the better part of life, he thought—making onself up; making her up; creating an exquisite amusement, and something more. But odd it was, and quite true; all this one could never share—it smashed to atoms.

I like the unreality of your mind; the whole thing is very splendid and voluptuous and absurd.

I thought how unpleasant it is to be locked out; and I thought how it is worse, perhaps, to be locked in.

Clothes are but a symbol of something hid deep beneath.

Intellectual freedom depends upon material things.

If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.

This is not writing at all. Indeed, I could say that Shakespeare surpasses literature altogether, if I knew what I meant.