"I hoped we had left seriousness in Europe." "I fancy you will find it here.

Remember that you are nearly thirty years old, and that you are nothing but an obscure Bohemian--a penniless correspondent of an illustrated newspaper." "Obscure as much as you please, but not so much of a Bohemian as you think.

And not at all penniless! I have a hundred pounds in my pocket.
I have an engagement to make fifty sketches, and I mean to paint the portraits of all our cousins, and of all their cousins, at a hundred dollars a head." "You are not ambitious," said Eugenia.
"You are, dear Baroness," the young man replied.
The Baroness was silent a moment, looking out at the sleet-darkened grave-yard and the bumping horse-cars.

"Yes, I am ambitious," she said at last.

"And my ambition has brought me to this dreadful place!" She glanced about her--the room had a certain vulgar nudity; the bed and the window were curtainless--and she gave a little passionate sigh.