No man in his heart is quite so cynical as a well-bred woman.

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

She had a pretty gift for quotation, which is a serviceable substitute for wit.

When she liked anyone it was quite natural for her to go to bed with him. She never thought twice about it. It was not vice; it wasn't lasciviousness; it was her nature. She gave herself as naturally as the sun gives heat or the flowers their perfume. It was a pleasure to her and she liked to give pleasure to others.

I happen to think we’ve set our ideal on the wrong objects; I happen to think that the greatest ideal man can set before himself is self-perfection.

Failure make people bitter and cruel. Success improves the character of the man.

The novel may stimulate you to think. It may satisfy your aesthetic sense. It may arouse your moral emotions. But if it does not entertain you it is a bad novel.