Fiction is the great repository of the moral sense. The wicked get punished.

You can never betray the people who are dead, so you go on being a public Jew; the dead can't answer slurs, but I'm here. I would love to think that Jesus wants me for a sunbeam, but he doesn't.

What is interesting about self-analysis is that it leads nowhere - it is an art form in itself.

A complete woman is probably not a very admirable creature. She is manipulative, uses other people to get her own way, and works within whatever system she is in.

I suppose what one wants really is ideal company and books are ideal company.

For once a thing is known, it can never be unknown. It can only be forgotten.

No blame should attach to telling the truth. But it does, it does.