Wisdom worth sharing, words worth remembering.
This is an important book the critic assumes because it deals with war. This is an insignificant book because it deals with the feelings of women in a drawing-room.
The connection between dress and war is not far to seek your finest clothes are those you wear as soldiers.
The truth is I often like women. I like their unconventionality. I like their completeness. I like their anonymity.
Let a man get up and say Behold this is the truth and instantly I perceive a sandy cat filching a piece of fish in the background. Look you have forgotten the cat I say.
If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.
I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present only about the past.
The telephone which interrupts the most serious conversations and cuts short the most weighty observations has a romance of its own.
If one could be friendly with women what a pleasure – the relationship so secret and private compared with relations with men. Why not write about it truthfully?
Odd how the creative power at once brings the whole universe to order.
Women have served all these centuries as looking glasses possessing the power of reflecting the figure of man at twice its natural size.
You cannot find peace by avoiding life.
It is the nature of the artist to mind excessively what is said about him. Literature is strewn with the wreckage of men who have minded beyond reason the opinions of others.
