London is full of women who trust their husbands. One can always recognise them. They look so thoroughly unhappy.

"I can stand brute force, but brute reason is quite unbearable. There is something unfair about its use. It is hitting below the intellect."

"How clever you are, my dear! You never mean a single word you say."

The husbands of very beautiful women belong to the criminal classes.

No publisher should ever express an opinion on the value of what he publishes. That is a matter entirely for the literary critic to decide. . . .