“Let me be mad, then, by all means! mad with the madness of Absinthe, the wildest, most luxurious madness in the world! Vive la folie! Vive l'amour! Vive l'animalisme! Vive le Diable!”

“Such lovely warmth of thought and delicacy of colour are beyond all praise, and equally beyond all thanks!”

“If we choose to be no more than clods of clay then we shall be used as clods of clay for braver feet to tread on.”

“I never married because I have three pets at home that answer the same purpose as a husband. I have a dog that growls every morning a parrot that swears all afternoon and a cat that comes home late at night.”

“I never married because there was no need. I have three pets at home that answer the same purpose as a husband. I have a dog that growls every morning a parrot that swears all afternoon and a cat that comes home late at night.”

“Stretch out your hand! Let no human soul wait for a benediction.”

“I never married because there was no need. I have three pets at home which answer the same purpose as a husband. I have a dog which growls every morning, a parrot which swears all afternoon, and a cat that comes home late at night.”

“Curious that it is impossible for a man to be original without attracting around him a set of unoriginal minds, as though he were a honey-pot and they the flies!”

“There was something else,--something quite undefinable, that gave a singular glow and radiance to the whole countenance, and suggested the burning of a light through alabaster,--a creeping of some subtle fire through the veins which made the fair body seem the mere reflection of some greater fairness within.”

“Was it worth while, he thought, to be so wise, if wisdom made one at times so sad? Was it well to sacrifice Faith for Fact, when Faith was so warm and Fact so cold? Was it better to be a dreamer of things possible, or a worker-out of things positive? And how much was positive, after all, and how much possible? He balanced the question lightly with himself. It was like a discord in the music of his mind, and disturbed his peace.”

“Does one love a statue?" she demanded. "Shall I caress a picture? Shall I rain tears or kisses over the mere semblance of a life that does not live, shall I fondle hands that never return my clasp? Love! Love is in my heart -yes! like a shut-up fire in a tomb,but you hold the key, and the flame dies for want of air.”