Terrible and sublime thought, that every moment is supreme for some man and woman, every hour the apotheosis of some passion!

One must choose between obscurity with efficiency, and fame with its inevitable collateral of bluff.

It may be that, while we plodding realists go on, for ever preoccupied with our daily chores, abstracting a microscopic pleasure from each microscopic duty, your true romantic has the truer vision, and beholds, afar off, in all its lurid splendour and terrible proportions, the piquant adventure we call life.

The artist in his teens who is happy is a charlatan. Life comes bursting in all around lis too suddenly, too crudely, too cruelly, for happiness.

Wives invariably flourish when deserted; ... it is the deserting male, the reckless idealist rushing about the world seeking a non-existent felicity, who often ends in disaster.

There is nothing like an odor to stir memories.

It is so much easier to tell intimate things in the dark.