You have weighed the stars in the balance, and grasped the skies in a span: / Take, if you must have answer, the word of a common man.

No one can understand Paris and its history who does not understand that its fierceness is the balance and justification of its frivolity. It is called a city of pleasure; but it may also very specially be called a city of pain.

White founts falling in the courts of the sun, / And the Soldan of Byzantium is smiling as they run.

There is a great deal of difference between an eager man who wants to read a book, and a tired man who wants a book to read.

The pure modernist is merely a snob; he cannot bear to be a month behind the fashion.

I am going to hold a pistol to the head of the Modern Man. But I shall not use it to kill him–only to bring him to life.