French writer of novels about women (1873-1954)

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A happy childhood is poor preparation for human contacts.
It is wise to apply the oil of refined politeness to the mechanisms of friendship.
The true traveler is he who goes on foot, and even then, he sits down a lot of the time.
There are days when solitude, for someone my age, is a heady wine that intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic, and still others when it is a poison that makes you beat your head against the wall.
Total absence of humor renders life impossible.

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