Some closing of the gates is inevitable after thirty, if the mind itself is to become a creative power.

. . . the crime of suicide lies rather in its disregard for the feelings of those whom we leave behind.

She stopped and leant her elbows against the parapet of the embankment. He did likewise. There is at times a magic in identity of position; it is one of the things that have suggested to us eternal comradeship.

Was Mrs. Wilcox one of the unsatisfactory people- there are many of them- who dangle intimacy and then withdraw it? They evoke our interests and affections, and keep the life of the spirit dawdling around them. Then they withdraw. When physical passion is involved, there is a definite name for such behaviour- flirting- and if carried far enough, it is punishable by law. But no law- not public opinion, even- punishes those who coquette with friendship, though the dull ache that they inflict, the sense of misdirected effort and exhaustion, may be as intolerable. Was she one of these?

While the Gods are powerful, we learn little about them. It is only in their day of decadence that a strong light beats into heaven.

It is the vice of a vulgar mind to be thrilled by bigness.