The deepest sin against the human mind is to believe things without evidence.

One cubic centimeter cures ten gloomy sentiments.

Impulse arrested spills over, and the flood is feeling, the flood is passion, the flood is even madness: it depends on the force of the current, the height and strength of the barrier. The unchecked stream flows smoothly down its appointed channels into a calm well being.

Wherever the choice has had to be made between the man of reason and the madman, the world has unhesitatingly followed the madman.

Science and art are only too often a superior kind of dope, possessing this advantage over booze and morphia: that they can be indulged in with a good conscience and with the conviction that, in the process of indulging, one is leading the higher life.

Dream in a pragmatic way.

If human beings were shown what they're really like, they'd either kill one another as vermin, or hang themselves.