No one in particular. A man of no importance.

I quite admit that modern novels have many good points. All I insist on is that, as a class, they are quite unreadable.

In art, don't you see, there is no first person.

Besides, nothing makes one so vain as being told that one is a sinner. Conscience makes egotists of us all.

To introduce real people into a novel or a play is a sign of an unimaginative mind, a coarse, untutored observation and an entire absence of style.

He remembered with what callousness he had watched her.

To define is to limit.