Was it necessary to tell me that you wanted nothing in the world but me?' The corners of his mouth drooped peevishly. Oh, my dear, it's rather hard to take quite literally the things a man says when he's in love with you.' Didn't you mean them?' At the moment.

There are few things so pleasant as a picnic eaten in perfect comfort.

Writing is a wholetime job: no professional writer can afford only to write when he feels like it.

As if a woman ever loved a man for his virtue.

The author always loads his dice, but he must never let the reader see that he has done so.

Her tears were partly tears of happiness, for she felt that the strangeness between them was gone. She loved him now with a new love because he had made her suffer.

I am sick of this way of life. The weariness and sadness of old age make it intolerable. I have walked with death in hand, and death's own hand is warmer than my own. I don't wish to live any longer.