Quotes By Author: W. Somerset Maugham

“A little smoke lost in the air, that was the life of a man.”

“Writing is the supreme solace.”

“To write simply is as difficult as to be good.”

“If you can tell stories, create characters, devise incidents, and have sincerity and passion, it doesn’t matter a damn how you write.”

“No egoism is so insufferable as the Christian with regard to his soul.”

“We do not write because we want to; we write because we have to.”

“I write only when inspiration strikes. Fortunately it strikes every morning at nine o’clock sharp.”

“Only a mediocre person is always at his best. ”

“There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.”

“I’ve been quite happy. Look, here are my proofs. Remember that I am indifferent to discomforts which would harass other folk. What do the circumstances of life matter if your dreams make you lord paramount of time and space?”

“I hate you. I wish you was dead.”Mrs. Carey gasped. He said the words so savagely that it gave her quite a start. She had nothing to say. She sat down in her husband’s chair; and as she thought of her desire to love the friendless, crippled boy and her eager wish that he should love her–she was a barren woman and, even though it was clearly God’s will that she should be childless, she could scarcely bear to look at little children sometimes, her heart ached so–the tears rose to her eyes and one by one, slowly, rolled down her cheeks. Philip watched her in amazement. She took out her handkerchief, and now she cried without restraint. Suddenly Philip realised that she was crying because of what he had said, and he was sorry. He went up to her silently and kissed her. It was the first kiss he had ever given herwithout being asked. And the poor lady, so small in her black satin, shrivelled up and sallow, with her funny corkscrew curls, took the little boy on her lap and put her arms around him and wept as though her heart would break. But her tears were partly tears of happiness, for she felt that the strangeness between them was gone. She loved him now with a new love because he had made her suffer.”

“The great tragedy of life is not that men perish, but that they cease to love.”