It seemed to her such nonsense-inventing differences, when people, heaven knows, were different enough without that.

The word-coining genius, as if thought plunged into a sea of words and came up dripping.

But nevertheless, the fact remained, it was almost impossible to dislike anyone if one looked at them.

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.

When the shriveled skin of the ordinary is stuffed out with meaning, it satisfies the senses amazingly.

Truth had run through my fingers. Every drop had escaped.

Different though the sexes are, they inter-mix. In every human being a vacillation from one sex to the other takes place, and often it is only the clothes that keep the male or female likeness, while underneath the sex is very opposite of what it is above.