...we were back at home, and I had returned to that reassuring but profoundly unsatisfactory state known as 'being in one's right mind.

Only one more indispensable massacre of Capitalists or Communists or Fascists or Christians or Heretics, and there we are in the Golden Future.

Universal happiness keeps the wheels steadily turning, truth and beauty can't.

For in spite of language, in spite of intelligence and intuition and sympathy, one can never really communicate anything to anybody.

It is only when we have renounced our preoccupation with "I," "me," "mine," that we can truly possess the world in which we live. Everything, provided that we regard nothing as property. And not only is everything ours; it is also everybody else's.

Cynical realism is the intelligent man's best excuse for doing nothing in an intolerable situation.

Everyone belongs to everyone else.