akes egotists of us all.

Never trust a woman who wears mauve, whatever her age may be, or a woman
over thirty-five who is fond of pink ribbons. It always means that they
have a history.

There is a fatality about good resolutions-they are always made too
late.

We can have in life but one great experience at best, and the secret of
life is to reproduce that experience as often as possible.

Anybody can be good in the country. There are no temptations there. That
is the reason why people who live out of town are so absolutely
uncivilised. Civilisation is not by any means an easy thing to attain
to. There are only two ways by which man can reach it. One is by being
cultured, the other by being corrupt. Country people have no opportunity
of being either, so they stagnate.

What nonsense people talk about happy marriages! A man can be happy with
any woman so long as he does not love her.

The things one feels absolutely certain about are never true. That is
the fatality of faith and the lesson of romance.

In the common world of fact the wicked are not punished nor the good
rewarded. Success is given to the strong, failure thrust upon the weak.

Nothing should be able to harm a man except himself. Nothing should be
able to rob a man at all. What a man really has is what is in him. What
is outside of him should be a matter of no importance.

Modern morality consists in accepting the standard of one's age. I
consider that for any man of culture to accept the standard of his age
is a form of the grossest immorality.

Perplexity and mistrust fan affection into passion, and so bring about
those beautiful tragedies that alone make life worth living. Women once
felt this, while men did not, and so women once ruled the world.

Sin is a thing that writes itself across a man's, face. It cannot be
concealed. People talk sometimes of secret vices. There are no such
things.

If a wretched man has a vice it shows itself in the lines of his mouth,
the drop of his eyelids, the moulding of his hands even.

There are sins whose fascination is more in the memory than in the doing
of them, strange triumphs that gratify the pride more than the passions
and give to the intellect a quickened sense of joy, greater than they
bring or can ever bring to the senses.

No civilised man ever regrets a pleasure, and no uncivilised man ever
knows what a pleasure is.

As for a spoiled life, no life is spoiled but one whose growth is
arre