I think I was a little disappointed in her. I expected then people to be more of a piece than I do now, and I was distressed to find so much vindictiveness in so charming a creature. I did not realize how motley are the qualities that go to make up a human being. Now I am well aware that pettiness and grandeur, malice and charity, hatred and love, can find place side by side in the same human heart.

There is a sort of man who pays no attention to his good actions, but is tormented by his bad ones. This is the type that most often writes about himself.

The trouble with young writers is that they are all in their sixties.

It's no use crying over spilt milk, because all of the forces of the universe were bent on spilling it.

There's nothing the world loves more than a ready-made description which they can hang on to a man, and so save themselves all trouble in future.

Tolerance is only another name for indifference.

The good traveler has the gift of surprise.