She was one of those people who say "I don't know anything about music really, but I know what I like." - Max Beerbohm

He was too much concerned with his own perfection ever to think of admiring any one else.

She was a young person whose reveries never were in retrospect. For her past was no treasury of distinct memories, all hoarded and classified, some brighter than others and more highly valued. All memories were for her but as the motes in one fused radiance that followed her and made more luminous the pathway of her future.

A crowd, proportionately to its size, magnifies all that in its units pertains to the emotions, and diminishes all that in them pertains to thought.