“The heat was beginning to scorch my cheeks; beads of sweat were gathering in my eyebrows. It was just the same sort of heat as at my mother’s funeral, and I had the same disagreeable sensations—especially in my forehead, where all the veins seemed to be bursting through the skin.” Stranger
She lacks the indefinable charm of weakness. It is the feet of clay that make the gold of the image precious. The Picture of Dorian Gray
"I did that," says my memory. "I could not have done that," says my pride, and remains inexorable. Eventually the memory yields. Beyond Good and Evil
When we remember that we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained. Mark Twain's Notebook
Quotes