Tis all a Checkerboard of Nights and Days Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays: Hither and thither moves$$$ and mates$$$ and stays$$$ And one by one back in the Closet lays.

Physics isn't the most important thing. Love is.

Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.

The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself.

Henry James was one of the nicest old ladies I ever met.

I love Virginians because Virginians are all snobs and I like snobs. A snob has to spend so much time being a snob that he has little time left to meddle with you.

Most men are a little better than their circumstances give them a chance to be.

...only the peak feels so sound and stable that the beginning of the falling is hidden for a little while...

Maybe times are never strange to women: it is just one continuous monotonous thing full of the repeated follies of their menfolks.

It is a happy faculty of the mind to slough that which conscience refuses to assimilate.