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"Vain trifles as they seem, clothes have, they say, more important offices then to merely keep us warm. They change our view of the world and the world's view of us. [...] there is much to support the view that it is clothes that wear us and not we them; we may make them take the mould of arm or breast, but they mould our hearts, our brains, our tongues to their liking."

"She began to think, was Nature beautiful or cruel; and then she asked herself what this beauty was; whether it was in the things themselves, or only in herself; so she went on to the nature of reality, which led her to truth, which in its turn led to Love, Friendship, Poetry [...]; which meditations, since she could impart no word of them, made her long, as she had never longed before, for pen and ink."

"For Love, to which we may now return, has two faces; one white, the other black; two bodies; one smooth, the other hairy. It has two hands, two feet, two tails, two, indeed, of every member and each one is the opposite of the other. Yet, so strictly are they joined together that you cannot separate them."

"Nature and letters seem to have a natural antipathy; bring them together and they tear each other to pieces."

"At last the play ended. All had grown dark. The tears streamed down his face. Looking up into the sky there was nothing but blackness there too. Ruin and death, he thought, cover all. The life of man ends in the grave. Worms devour us."