“I am an unspeakable of the Oscar Wilde sort.”

“Faith, to my mind, is a stiffening process, a sort of mental starch....”

“I am swathed in cant', she thought, 'and it is good for me to be stripped of it.”

“The advance of regret can be so gradual that it is impossible to say "yesterday I was happy, today I am not.”

“It was unbearable, and he thought again, 'How unhappy I am!' and became happier.”

“I am sure that if the mothers of various nations could meet, there would be no more wars.”

“He educated Maurice, or rather his spirit educated Maurice's spirit, for they themselves became equal. Neither thought "Am I led; am I leading?" Love had caught him out of triviality and Maurice out of bewilderment in order that two imperfect souls might touch perfection.”