-
It is so easy to convince others; it is so difficult to convince oneself.
-
A person who, because he has corns himself, always treads on other people's toes.
-
Truth is independent of facts always.
-
It's not hard to get the ideas when they come. They just come... it's painful waiting for them.
-
She doth mean the earth to me! By earth, I actually mean dust.
-
I feel that if I kept it secret it might grow in my mind and take its place with the other terrible thoughts that gnaw me.
-
Things are because we see them, and what we see, and how we see it, depends on the Arts that influenced us. To look at a thing is very different from seeing a thing. One does not see anything until one sees its beauty. Then, and then only, does it comes into existence.
-
The one advantage of playing with fire...is that no one ever gets singed. It is the people who don't know how to play with it who get burned up.
-
Art should never be popular.
-
I often take exercise. Why only yesterday I had breakfast in bed.
-
All the spring may be hidden in the single bud, and the low ground nest of the lark may hold the joy that is to herald the feet of many rose-red dawns.
-
I like my food dry. Not sick, not even dying, dead.
-
A glass of absinthe is as poetical as anything in the world. What difference is there between a glass of absinthe and a sunset?
-
One must have a heart of stone to read the death of little Nell without laughing.
-
Twenty years of romance make a woman look like a ruin, but twenty years of marriage make her something like a public building.
-
The sin was mine; I did not understand. So now is music prisoned in her cave, Save where some ebbing desultory wave Frets with its restless whirls this meagre strand...
-
Examinations, are pure humbug from beginning to end. If a man is a gentleman, he knows quite enough, and if he is not a gentleman, whatever he knows is bad for him.
-
Some things are too important to be taken seriously.
-
M. Zola is determined to show that, if he has not got genius, he can at least be dull.
-
Society takes upon itself the right to inflict appalling punishment on the individual, but it also has the supreme vice of shallowness, and fails to realize what it has done. When the man's punishment is over, it leaves him to himself; that is to say, it abandons him at the very moment when its highest duty towards him begins.
-
She had a passion for secrecy, but she herself was merely a Sphinx without a secret.
-
A book or poem which has no pity in it had better not be written.
-
As yet, Bernard Shaw hasn't become prominent enough to have any enemies, but none of his friends like him.
-
The cities of America are inexpressibly tedious. The Bostonians take their learning too sadly; culture with them is an accomplishment rather than an atmosphere; their Hub, as they call it, is the paradise of prigs. Chicago is a sort of monster-shop, full of bustles and bores. Political life at Washington is like political life in a suburban vestry. Baltimore is amusing for a week, but Philadelphia is dreadfully provincial; and though one can dine in New York one could not dwell there.