Perfection has one grave defect: it is apt to be dull.
He did not care if she was heartless, vicious and vulgar, stupid and grasping, he loved her. He would rather have misery with one than happiness with the other.
I have an idea that the only thing which makes it possible to regard this world we live in without disgust is the beauty which now and then men create out of the chaos. The pictures they paint, the music they compose, the books they write, and the lives they lead. Of all these the richest in beauty is the beautiful life. That is the perfect work of art.
To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all the miseries of life.
There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.
The essence of the beautiful is unity in variety.