Nearly All Novels Are Too Long.

Behavior Of Such Cunning Cruelty That Only A Human Being Could Have Thought Of Or Contrived It We Call 'inhuman,' Revealing Thus Some Pathetic Ideal Standard For Our Species That Survives All Betrayals.

They... Threw Themselves Into The Interests Of The Rest, But Each Plowed His Or Her Own Furrow. Their Thoughts, Their Little Passions And Hopes And Desires, All Ran Along Separate Lines. Family Life Is Like This - Animated, But Collateral.

I Seldom Meet Actors, They Are To Me Bright Strange Fishes Swimming In An Element Alien To Me; I Feel That To Meet Them Is To See Life.

Work Is A Dull Thing; You Cannot Get Away From That. The Only Agreeable Existence Is One Of Idleness, And That Is Not, Unfortunately, Always Compatible With Continuing To Exist At All.

Life, For All Its Agonies...is Exciting And Beautiful, Amusing And Artful And Endearing...and Whatever Is To Come After It -- We Shall Not Have This Life Again.