Reality, no matter how utopian, seems to be something people need to frequently take a holiday from.

I dread the inevitable acceleration of American world domination which will be the result of it all...Europe will no longer be Europe.

And what strange voices they have! Sometimes like the complaining of small children; sometimes like the noise of lambs.

Medical science is making such remarkable progress that soon none of us will be well.

Everybody strains after happiness, and the result is that nobody's happy.

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.

The pursuit of truth is just a polite name for the intellectual's favorite pastime of substituting simple and therefore false abstractions for the living complexities of reality.