... I doubt the capacity of the human animal for being dignified in ceremony.

For it would seem - her case proved it - that we write, not with the fingers, but with the whole person. The nerve which controls the pen winds itself about every fibre of our being, threads the heart, pierces the liver.

A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.

Style is a very simple matter; it is all rhythm. Once you get that, you can't use the wrong words.

To put it in a nutshell, he was afflicted with a love of literature. It was the fatal nature of this disease to substitute a phantom for reality.

One can only believe entirely, perhaps, in what one cannot see.

Why does Samuel Butler say, 'Wise men never say what they think of women'? Wise men never say anything else apparently.