Tempest-Tost

Anything free has an irresistible fascination.

Nothing changes fashion so quickly as Theology.

Well, well; it is our hobbies that keep us young.

There are some decisions which cannot be made on a basis of reason.

Everybody has their own kind of snobbery. I suspect you of being an intellectual snob.

"I object very much to being called a cute kid," she replied. "If it is God's will that I should be pretty, I'll be pretty; if I am to be plain, I shall be plain without complaint. But come what will, I shall never be vulgar. Only vulgar people are cute kids."

I never pay any attention to criticism. Most critics of anything are frauds. Worse, most of them are bachelors or spinsters. Their opinions of what other people create are firmly hitched to their own sexual cycle.

The parrot-cry that simplicity is one with good taste comes from people who cannot trust their taste in anything which is not simple.

I feel myself to be an angel, beating my ineffectual wings in vain against the granite fortress of your obtuse self-righteousness.

She has a heart like an artichoke; one man pulls off a leaf, dips it in melted butter, and consumes it with relish; another does the same. Anybody can have a leaf, but nobody gets them all, and nobody touches the core. I've had a leaf or two; why should I grudge Tasset his turn?

Quietness is a great beautifier, and in that room where there were so many tensions and expectations, so many warring ambitions and nervous cross-currents, her remoteness and her air of spiritual isolation were beautiful indeed.

Your idea of a student is about a hundred and fifty years out of date. Students today are a pretty solemn lot. One of the really notable achievements of the twentieth century has been to make the young old before their time.

There is a touch of the fascist in most adolescents; they admire the strong man who stands no nonsense; they have no objection to seeing the weak trampled underfoot; mercy in its more subtle forms is outside their understanding and has no meaning for them.

He had allowed his daughters to use his library without restraint, and nothing is more fatal to maidenly delicacy of speech than the run of a good library.

The condition of a vulgarian is that he never expects anything good or bad that happens to him to be the result of his own personality; he always thinks it's Fate, especially if it's bad. The only people who make any sense in the world are those who know that whatever happens to them has its roots in what they are.

So many women, even the young and pretty ones, aren't like women at all.

I never pay any attention to criticism. Most critics of anything are frauds.