This filthy twentieth century. I hate its guts.

Bound as our lives are to the tyranny of time, it is through what we know of history that we are delivered from our bonds and escape - into time.

One might regard architecture as history arrested in stone.

I would never wound a cat's feelings, no matter how downright aggressive I might be to humans.

I do not wish to die- There is such contingent beauty in life: The open window on summer mornings Looking out on gardens and green things growing, The shadowy cups of roses flowering to themselves- Images of time and eternity- Silence in the garden and felt along the walls.

If there is any honor in all the world that I should like, it would be to be an honorary Jewish citizen.

History is a great deal closer to poetry than is generally realised: in truth, I think, it is in essence the same.